Iris Storm
by Breena220
Summary: Her brother didn't understand. He never had. He couldn't. And so she drew her sword against him, flickers of her betrayal breaking through his unnaturally stoic expression. She was the storm who would end the reign of the goddess and bring peace to those it had been stolen from. What no one ever told her, though, was how devastating a storm can be.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem. I just write about it when I'm bored._

**Prologue**

The birth of a child was meant to be a loud thing. The screams of the mother-to-be giving way to the cries of the newborn. Perhaps some laughter or more tears as the mother holds her precious baby she fought so hard for. A whooping cheer from the father.

It was supposed to be the beginning of the family.

Not the end.

The room was silent save the labored breathing of the weakened mother and the gentle encouragement of the woman helping deliver the children.

One child, the firstborn, lay bundled in a blanket in the arms of the acting nurse. The edges of the woman's green hair tickled the baby's face but the child lay still.

His heart never beat.

The new mother, with the help of the green-haired woman, held her second child in her ailing grasp. This baby's heart was strong but no sound escaped the newborn girl's lips. She moved, making every motion of a crying child, but was soundless.

The mother caressed her daughter's dark hair, the little bit of motion the only she could manage. "Rhea... my son..." she whispered, eyes the color of deep waters staring at the bundle of blankets in the green-haired woman's arms with an intense yearning. "…I want to see my son."

"They take after you," Rhea complimented, tightening her hold on the stillborn child.

There was no reason to burden her. Not now.

Instead, she reached a hand out to the baby girl, stroking a cheek with her thumb, and drawing the mother's longing gaze back to the child in her arms. "Blue hair, blue eyes. They're all you."

The mother smiled and stared at the baby girl as if she could never see enough of her. Yet, despite her best efforts, the lids of her eyes were beginning to close and Rhea shifted the baby boy, kneeling to support the girl with her other arm. "Rest now. It is okay. I have them," she whispered. Rhea pressed a light, lingering kiss to the mother's hair.

The mother leaned into the touch. "Rhea..." her words were barely more than a breath and Rhea had to hold hers just to make certain she did not miss any, "… save my son."

Rhea did not move except to stare into the deep blue eyes that shouldn't know her son's condition.

"… Please."

Rhea let out a sigh, her lips once again brushing the woman's hair as her eyes closed.

"I will, my Dearest One."

_A/N:_

_This is my attempt at a twins fic. Due to the Alternate Universe aspect of this story, I plan to use canon but not follow it exclusively. Stories like this that I have written previously tend to make use of the Butterfly Effect, starting out familiar and then snowballing into something very different. _

_In order to minimize confusion (or potentially escalate it), I have opted not to make use of the canon name "Byleth." Instead, Male Byleth goes by the name Balen and will be, more or less, canon to the game while Fem Byleth goes by the name Blaise and has a unique role. _

_This story will be Blaise and Edelgard centric although I respect all characters and have no intention of bashing anyone. I adore the morally gray so no saints in this story (except the literal four Saints in the Three Houses plot). Also, as you can guess from the above prologue, Blaise is mute so the use of italics within the body of the story is the equivalent of Fodlan's sign language. I've bolded them as well due because the site's formatting making it more difficult to pick them out than say a Word document._

_I'm posting the first real chapter along with this one because it's so short so move along now to that and let me know what you think/what you would like to see via review or PM. :)_

**_EDIT: 02-27-20_**

_With the release of the Cindered Shadows expansion, this story has fallen into a slightly more alternate universe than it already was. You will know why by the end of Chapter 1 but I still maintain it is more or less canon with the information for the original release. Luckily, you should know quickly whether you can get past the contradiction with Cindered Shadows._


	2. Chapter 1

The blue sea star shown down upon her, impossibly brighter than the moon. It lit her path in soft light and the devastation around her did not seem as bad. The stars above sparkled off the broken stone and scattered their light in every direction.

It was like fireflies at dusk except ethereal.

She took silent steps across the bridge, worn with age and neglect, but as sturdy as it ever had been. Her hand glided over the edge, memorizing each etching in the stone, while she regarded the canyon below. The bridge sloped downwards, leading her there, to the crumbling city. It opened before her to a path of pale stone that continued as far as she could see.

She had no doubt that, at one time, the city had no equal. She couldn't recall anywhere she had been in her lifetime of travel that she thought would come even close to rivaling what this city had once been.

The architecture was distinctly different.

Sloping and spiraling in ways that should have been impossible, details remained of which suggested someone had spent a lot of thought, a lot of time -a lot of love\- on this place. The stone was like nothing she had ever seen, a polished, reflective mineral that reminded her of still waters or even glass.

A melody carried to her on the wind as familiar as the broken city. Something she had both never known yet felt she always knew.

She followed the music. A soft, slow ballad, a lullaby perhaps?

The blue sea star glowed brighter than ever and she wondered if it was directly above the city. She'd have looked except she had just passed the open threshold of a building. It was impossible to tell what it had once been but she was only looking straight ahead as she followed the music.

It grew louder with each step, notes reverberating and blending within the closed corridors.

Her heart seemed to swell in her chest until she thought it might burst. She found she had an excess of energy sparking beneath her skin like lightning and she sped up. She was at a full run, her hair and cloak whipping behind her until she turned a corner and skidded to a halt.

A woman rested in the crevices of what had once been a window. Her hair, long and as green as the forest's leaves, was braided down her back and adorned with silver ties and bangles. She wore silver armor, a curious marking etched into the breastplate, with an elegant sword at her hip bespectacled with jewels.

Eyes as green as her hair met the newcomer's blue ones and the woman smiled. She finished out the last notes of the sweet melody before she slipped from her perch. Her fall made not a sound nor did it seem to rustle the layer of dust on the floor.

Her smile was warm and familiar, like that of an old friend. "You have arrived. After all this time, Névé."

Névé?

The green-haired woman must have caught on to her confusion as she laughed softly. "My apologies. It is just I have always been fond of Névé. I believe Blaise is more appropriate to you?" she asked.

Blaise was her name if that was what she meant.

Then the green-haired woman was bowing to her so low her braid nearly swept the ground. "Chevalier."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. Was that supposed to mean something? It sounded like another language. A greeting?

The green eyes were back to meeting hers. "My name," the woman explained as if reading her mind. Her warm smile faded, her eyes misting over. "Come find me, Nèvè. I am in need of your help... as you are of mine..."

Blaise tilted her head and raised a hand, beginning the practiced movements of a question.

"... I have waited so long…"

"Hey! Time to wake up."

Gone was the strange green-haired woman, Blaise's eyes jolting open to her dark bedroom. She wasn't in some exotic city but in her bedroom in the very normal village of Remire. Disappointment flashed through her in the second before there was a loud knocking against her wooden door. More out of instinct than because she was actually awake enough to be considered "up," Blaise jerked, rolling off her bed and scrambling for the door. Throwing it open, her father stood, his arms crossed as he waited on her.

"Good, you're awake. We're meeting downstairs as soon as I get your brother up."

Blaise nodded, blinking in the bright light of the torch on the wall. **_Five minutes_**, she gestured and then closed the door on him. She moved quickly, knowing full well she would take longer to get her act together than Balen would.

Exactly the reason her father had woken her up first.

She lit the lantern at her bedside and went through the motions of discarding her nightclothes in favor of her light armor and cloak. Blaise jumped across her bed, dragging her sword across, and that was when her brain woke up.

Her sword.

It was the same as it always was. Its craftsmanship was decent yet wholly incomparable to the one the green-haired woman in her dream carried. Chevalier, she reminded herself.

Awake, Blaise knew she had that dream before although she'd never gotten to hear Chevalier speak in her previous ones. She was quite familiar with the mysterious city at this point, having wandered it many a night, and she had the melody of the song memorized, often catching herself thinking of it.

She supposed she'd sing it if she could.

Blaise grimaced at the irony of it all, feeling the beginnings of a headache and a drowsiness in her limbs as if she had not slept at all.

For a brief moment, she wondered if that was possible.

Then she huffed silently and yanked her sword over the bed, belting it around her waist. She grabbed her hairbrush before storming out of her room. She didn't have the luxury of being tired and distracted.

Not today. They would be on their way to Faerghus in hours.

But, goodness, she wished she hadn't been awoken while the mysterious Chevalier was speaking.

As expected, her brother was already downstairs when she came down, pulling her brush through her hair as she did. She paused just long enough to greet him with a "_**Morning, Balen**._"

Balen's face was his normal impassive as he signaled a return greeting. _**Morning, Blaise**._

Her brother, while being her twin, was not known for being expressive though Blaise seemed to have an overabundance. She joked she'd gotten them all even as she questioned their relation. If it wasn't for them sharing the same complexion, hair and, eyes...

**_ Where's Father?_** A quick scan showed he wasn't in the room.

"Outside," Balen stated.

The word had no sooner left his mouth than the door to the outside opened and her father strolled in, his gaze scanning over her to land on Balen. "Were you having that dream again?" he questioned.

Blaise perked up, tilting her head to eye her brother.

Her father dropped his chin in his hand. "Let me guess, massive armies clashing on a vast field, right? There hasn't been a battle like that in over three centuries…"

Balen only nodded.

She wished he would say more about his dreams. Her father often got uncomfortable, she went into so much detail over hers.

_**I dreamed of a fallen city and a green-haired woman**._

Right on cue, her father seemed to pale by the shades. "… In any case…" he coughed, very obviously avoiding her eyes "... put that out of your mind for now. The battlefield is no place for idle thoughts. Risking your life is part of the job for mercenaries like us. Letting your mind wander is a sure way to get yourself killed," he continued.

He was eyeing her more than Balen, who nodded tersely. Blaise pursed her lips but also nodded, trying to rein her thoughts in to their next job.

Their responses must have satisfied him as he nodded and waved an arm for them to follow him outside. "Okay, time to get moving. Our next job is in the Kingdom. It's far from here so we'll need to leave at dawn."

"Right," Balen agreed.

Blaise found it useless to respond since neither Balen or her father were looking at her. It was generally assumed a lack of response was her agreement anyways so she turned her attention to the nearest window. The horizon was beginning to lighten. She guessed they had, at most, an hour until dawn.

Her father stopped abruptly in the doorway, a groan escaping his lips. "Good grief. Everyone is already waiting for us."

Blaise instinctively looked to Balen who was tall enough to see over their father's shoulder, but his face was as blank as ever, giving her no indication as to what was going on outside besides it being worth watching. She was forced to peek around the men and it was quite a sight. She had never seen so many of their mercenaries ready so early. They had formed in groups, speaking in loud voices. However, it was made even more strange by the number of village guards interspersed since they weren't traveling with them.

As she considered the situation, one of their mercenaries broke from the others and sprinted to them.

"Jeralt, Sir! Sorry to interrupt but your presence is needed."

Her father stiffened and stepped from the doorway, Blaise forcing her way around Balen in order to almost feel involved.

"What's happened?" Jeralt barked.

"There are children outside the gates of the village. They say there are bandits after them. The guards do not know whether to believe them or not and are wary of opening the gates this early should it be a trap," he explained.

"Very well. The Kids and I will see to it. Continue our preparations but send my horse this way. We will still plan to leave at dawn," Jeralt ordered.

"Yes, Sir."

Jeralt shook his head and watched the mercenary run toward the stables. "Come on, you two. Let's get this over with."

They simply followed in his wake, Balen with slow, deliberate steps while Blaise felt the beginnings of adrenaline running through her veins, making her steps more bouncy. Jeralt spoke briefly with the guards at the gate and by the time they came to an agreement to allow the three of them to go out, his horse had been saddled and brought up.

It was not hard to find the children though Blaise was surprised to find they were, at youngest, teens and not much younger than herself and Balen. They had on similar clothing to each other, a uniform of sorts she supposed, but with differing colors and they did have weapons. The three, two boys and a girl, ran up to meet them as the gate closed once again.

The taller boy, his uniform accented with blue and a lance in hand, bowed low to her father. "Please forgive our intrusion. We wouldn't bother you were the situation not dire."

Blaise wondered why he didn't specifically explain the situation if it was so dire. No wonder the village guards had been hesitant to believe them. As it was, she found her gaze scouring the immediate area for bandits or anything really that could be considered threatening.

"What do a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?" Jeralt questioned. He never did have much patience for formalities but seemed to have even less so considering the suspicious circumstance surrounding the teens.

"We're being pursued by a group of bandits. I can only hope that you will be so kind as to lend your support," the first boy explained.

Her father's hand went to his chin. "There are not many bandits in this area," he stated.

The girl in red stepped up this time, an axe hefted over one shoulder. "It's true. They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp," she insisted.

She spoke more directly than her first companion and Blaise was at least a little more convinced.

"We've been separated from our companions and we're outnumbered. They're after our lives..." the boy in yellow continued the explanation. "… not to mention our gold," he added as an afterthought and mostly to himself. His finger plucked at the string on his bow.

Jeralt held the gaze of each of them before speaking again. He must have liked what he saw as her father visibly relaxed and the tone of his voice reflected it.

So they were going to believe them then.

Blaise's fingers tightened on the hilt of her sword, noting Balen do the same beside her. A flicker of movement in the corner of her eye had Blaise nudging Balen and nodding to the surrounding forest. Of course, he already seemed to be looking…

"I'm impressed you're staying so calm considering the situation. I... Wait. That uniform..."

Balen made no move to say anything so Blaise was forced to step in front of her father, her fingers already forming the words she could not say. _**Father, there are figures moving in the trees**._

"How many?"

She could only shrug, transferring her gaze to Balen.

"I cannot tell from here," Balen answered the question. He slid his blade from its sheath.

Jeralt sighed. "I guess they followed the three of you all the way here. We can't abandon this village now. Come on, let's move. Hope you're ready." He looked from her to Balen as he said it, both of them nodding simultaneously and Blaise unsheathing her own sword. "We will scout first. Blaise, with me. Balen, you take that direction. Bow, you will be with him..." Jeralt pointed the boy in yellow toward Balen "and... would you like axe or lance, Kid?"

Balen considered the girl and the remaining boy before shifting his gaze to Blaise. Blaise tilted her head. He was supposed to be picking for himself, not for her. "Lance," Balen suddenly decided.

An odd choice for him.

For some reason, the boy in yellow found his response amusing and laughed aloud. "It seems you have failed to impress him, Edelgard." He nudged his companion in the side with his elbow.

The girl, Edelgard, she presumed, glared at him with a look that could kill. "I find it hard to believe his reasoning would be so superficial as to whether he likes me or not in the five minutes we've been in his presence," the girl scoffed. "I should hope there would be more to consider than that." Her eyes were the color of lavender but there was nothing soft about them as she shifted her intense stare to Balen.

It was a silent challenge if Blaise had ever heard one. She was just glad she wasn't on the receiving end of it.

Balen, for his part, appeared thoroughly disinterested. "My sister works better with axe-wielders," he admitted.

All three students were quite suddenly looking at her and she mentally cursed him for the unwanted attention. She settled for glaring at him. **_You were supposed to pick for yourself, you idiot._**

**_I have no preference. You do._**

**_My preference is negligible when I cannot talk to her. I do not believe she understands sign language. _**As if to prove the point, Blaise gestured a series of simple questions to Edelgard. Things like "hey, how are you?, the weather is nice today, isn't it?, do you know what the date is?"

Predictably, the silver-haired girl with lavender eyes only stared, a faint flush coloring her cheeks though, from embarrassment or frustration, Blaise could not tell. "I apologize. I do not understand," she stated.

Blaise let her hand drop with a pointed look at her brother.

**_The other two do not understand either. You're still better off with her._**

Of course, he was correct, the two boys also staring blankly at her, and she huffed.

"You two quit arguing…" Jeralt scolded as he swung upon his horse. Blaise heard a "That's arguing?" from the boy in yellow followed by a hiss as the boy in blue elbowed him in the side. Jeralt ignored them and nodded to Edelgard, "Now, Edelgard, is it? You'll be with us." He paused as Edelgard nodded and took a few steps away from her companions to join them. Her father's gaze was back on Balen. "Only engage battle when you are certain of the odds..." **_And do not allow anything to happen to these kids_**.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at the request. Not that she had any intention of letting anyone get hurt but it was odd of him to outright say.

It wasn't a question for right now.

Her father nudged his horse off and Blaise reluctantly followed, casting one final, and potentially longing, glance at her brother.

It was a difficult feeling to describe but she'd always felt she was supposed to be with Balen. She could count on one hand the number of times they'd been separated and it often left her with the feeling she was going mad. There was a pulsing in her chest and the air around her, searching and calling out when he was gone. Blaise found she could control the pulsing somewhat and could transfer it to her father, and it did ease the tension, but it wasn't the same.

It was weak and slow.

There was more than one occasion when she was younger where she had abandoned her father to find Balen instead.

And she always found him by following the pulses in the air of which she could recognize to be his even from a great distance.

No one besides Balen and her father had ever given her the same experience. So it was with great surprise that, when she shifted the pulse from Balen to Jeralt for her sanity, she picked up a third.

Blaise blinked at her axe-wielding companion... the girl named Edelgard who had fallen in step beside her.

That couldn't be right. She didn't even know this girl and she just so happened to have one of these pulsing things?

More out of curiosity and because she knew her father would slowly drive her insane with his weak pulse, Blaise jumped hers to Edelgard. The axe-wielder showed no indication that she knew, but then, Balen and her father never did either.

It was different from Balen's, Edelgard's being more akin to a symphony than a single strong beat, but, what surprised her more, was how **not** different it felt.

Curious.

At any rate, if she couldn't have Balen, then Edelgard was certainly better than her father.

Jeralt made a comment of retrieving some of his mercenaries and Blaise vaguely acknowledged him with a flick of her hand. She hardly noticed him spurring his horse off inside the village, leaving her and Edelgard at the front gate.

Blaise knew she had crossed the line into staring and she really should stop. There were bandits out here after all…

Bandits!

She could have smacked herself in the head. Letting her mind wander was exactly what her father had warned her not to do. She was halfway through asking which direction the bandits had followed them from before she remembered Edelgard wouldn't understand.

It didn't matter anyway as no sooner had her hand frozen in the middle of her question than a duo of bandits practically tripped over themselves running out of a copse of trees from the Northeast. Balen's doing if she were to guess.

She turned to gauge Edelgard's reaction. After all, just because she carried an axe didn't mean she knew how to use it. She was pleased, however, to find Edelgard wasn't concerned but was watching her with the same appraising look.

"You have a strange aura about you..."

Blaise's heart skipped a beat. Could she feel it too?

"… I gather you are a mercenary so show me what you can do," Edelgard challenged, hefting her axe from her shoulder quick enough Blaise felt the wind as the blade cut through the air.

Independent. She clearly had no reservations going ahead without Jeralt.

Neither did Blaise.

A grin spread across the blue-haired mercenary's face. Edelgard wanted to see what she could do?

**_Prepare to be amazed, Edelgard._**

Blaise was pretty sure the gist of what she had said came across as she expertly twirled her sword and stepped around to lead the way to the fleeing bandits.

She led Edelgard to the West, aiming to cut off the bandits from that direction. If she was correct about her assumption then Balen would be on the opposite end as them and her father would return to battle from the South, leaving the bandits with limited escape options.

The West had higher ground and, coupled with their advantage of surprise, they took out the duo with relative ease.

Edelgard, in a maneuver that Blaise thought was a little haphazard, charged past her, leaping from a rocky outcrop and into the clearing the bandits were. Her target stood no chance as she used the combined force of her weight and gravity to imbed her axe in his chest.

Effective, Blaise could admit, but it left her open to attack from the second bandit. Perhaps she thought she could recover her axe quick enough to block any follow-up attacks?

Whether that was her intention or not, Blaise was certain it wasn't going to happen so she slid in between the two, her sword catching the head of the bandit's axe and stopping it's descent well before it endangered Edelgard. With a twist of her blade, the axe was ripped from the bandit's hand and sent soaring out of reach. A simple backhanded swipe later and the bandit lay dead at her feet.

Blaise held her position for a moment until she was certain the bandit would not move.

"That was…quite a maneuver..." Edelgard admitted as Blaise straightened from her fighting stance. "I have never seen it demonstrated before." The other girl was looking at the bandit's axe now fifteen feet away or so from his body.

Demonstrated? An odd choice of wording. She wondered where Edelgard learned to fight. Her technique itself wasn't bad but she needed to work on predicting consequences of said technique which Blaise had always thought was rather basic.

While there wasn't anything particularly wrong with the bandit's technique either, he failed to do the same and lost his weapon.

Blaise slipped around to Edelgard's right, coaxing the girl's hands to tighten on her axe in the same position she just used for fighting.

It took a moment but Edelgard seemed to understand.

Blaise moved her hand to grab the axe below the blade, gave Edelgard a moment to comprehend what she was about to do, and then yanked the weapon. Edelgard was stronger than she expected but she was still unable to keep Blaise from taking the axe.

Looking concerned and a little bit confused as Blaise handed the axe back to her, Edelgard repeated the motion.

Except this time Blaise tapped Edelgard's wrists until she had slid her grip upward before she tried to pull the axe away.

And, this time, Edelgard managed to keep hold of her axe. A pensive look crossed her features as she regarded her weapon. "I suppose the extra damage from more momentum is useless if I lose my weapon. You proved that much," she admitted.

Yes, gripping the axe higher requires more strength but makes it more difficult for an opponent to take the weapon away. It is also a precursor to more advanced and quicker attacks because it gives the soldier more control over where the blade is going.

Blaise wished she could elaborate such but the little demonstration would have to do for now. At least Edelgard understood the basis of what she was trying to say.

"There was an old fort up ahead that we passed and could be where the leader is hiding out. If we take him out the rest of the bandits will scatter," Edelgard suggested.

She knew the fort Edelgard was speaking of and, while it was rundown, it was still risky to attack as only a group of two. Then again, Balen and her father would probably come to the same conclusion as Edelgard. So she nodded, giving her companion a thumbs up.

Edelgard took the lead, adjusting their direction a little more North. They ran into another group of bandits and they were dispatched similarly except Edelgard and Blaise attacked together with Blaise following up with a swing that felled a third before he could gather his bearings enough to put up a fight. She was rewarded with a half-smile from the silver-haired axe wielder that had her twirling her sword again with little care how obvious it was she was pleased with herself.

The sounds of a separate altercation grew louder as they approached the fort and Blaise swept in front of Edelgard, silently taking over command and slowing their pace. It wouldn't do to charge in without knowing the stakes.

Peeking through the brush with Edelgard kneeling beside her, Blaise made out two bandits. They appeared to be arguing about "the plan" whatever that entailed. Clearly, it hadn't gone the way they wanted.

Blaise glanced at her companion, pointing to the bandit on the right and then to herself and the series of bushes to their right. It would be another easy ambush if they split up in opposite directions to come at their adversaries indirectly.

"I've got the one on the left," Edelgard agreed in a whisper.

She split off to the left, Blaise taking the right.

That was about the extent of the situation going as planned. Blaise had overestimated Edelgard's understanding of said plan, at least when it came to the two of them working together. She wasn't even in position yet when Edelgard must have assumed she was. It occurred to her now they should have had a signal but it was too late as Edelgard had already charged into battle.

And, instead of fighting, the two bandits bolted.

The one closest to Edelgard barely made it more than a few steps before he was forced to defend himself or have her axe imbedded in his back.

The sound of steel on steel reverberated in her ears as Blaise shot past them to catch up to hers who was still fleeing through the forest.

Then something very strange happened.

Balen turned around a patch of trees where the bandit was heading and Blaise slowed, knowing her brother would take him out.

Except he didn't, the bandit dodging away to the North.

Blaise felt her frustration grow, raising her hand to ask him what in Fodlan's name was he doing.

"Get back to Edelgard!"

She froze. It was an order and he never ordered her around. Not only that but there was something different about him. Something in his face… an urgency that she couldn't say she'd ever seen on him before.

Blaise spun on her heel and charged through the brush she had last seen the girl only moments before.

And she was gone, her bandit's body the only evidence Blaise was in the right spot.

Blaise barely broke a step as she turned abruptly to the left, doing the only other thing she knew to do to find her. She followed the pulsing in the air. That strong beat that filled her head and her chest and made her want to be as close as possible. Blaise leapt down an embankment and there Edelgard was engaged in a battle with another bandit.

He was large in size with many visible scars along his arms and face. Definitely a seasoned fighter. His blows were strong, each clang of weapon on weapon sending chills down her spine. Edelgard was holding her own defensively but it was clear she was tiring, and quickly, as evidenced by each wince as her axe blocked another attack. In an effort to conserve some energy, she had gone back to holding her axe low.

Blaise wished she could yell. Tell her to raise her grip and just hold on until she got there. Blaise was already halfway there and running full speed.

Yet still not quick enough.

Edelgard's axe was pulled from her grasp, her weapon sent flying through the air away from her. She was fumbling for a dagger at her waist even as the bandit prepared to bring his axe down upon her.

Blaise felt the pulsing around her intensify, the air electric.

The bandit's axe was falling, a smirk upon his face at his soon-to-be victory. "I will kill you where you stand!"

Blaise felt a final spark within her and, in the blink of an eye, she had closed an impossible amount of distance to stand between Edelgard and the bandit leader. She heard Edelgard gasp behind her, saw the bandit's eyes widen in the fraction of a second it took for Blaise to punch him backward with the pommel of her sword.

The bandit's axe descended harmlessly to the ground next to where he had fallen. He scrambled away from her as if he was staring at a ghost, cursing all the while.

Blaise let him run as a wave of vertigo clouded her vision and she felt herself fall. The pulsing beat, now reduced to little more than the equivalent of white noise, soothed her as the last of her consciousness slipped away.

_A/N:_

_The crest of Chevalier is one of the crests that has been lost to time, implying that there could have once been a Nabatean by that name. I chose to make her female because I feel as if it is more traditional. Chevalier's crest is classified as a "snow dragon sign". Névé is actually a type of snow that I thought made a nice pet name. More on that later._

_I feel inclined to mention that this story is unbeta'd and I know my use of commas (or lack thereof) leaves something to be desired. I apologize for the inconvenience._


	3. Chapter 2

Blaise woke up to the bare walls of her room in Remire. Clearly, she had passed out and for quite a while since she had no recollection of being brought here. That was… most unfortunate. Not least of which because she didn't really know the reason behind her vertigo. The pulsing had just gotten so heavy. Stretching against her familiar mattress, Blaise casually rolled onto her side… and was promptly faced with her brother's stare.

She shot up into a sitting position, nearly head-butting Balen in her haste.

**_Balen! What are you doing?_**

Honestly, it was called personal boundaries.

Shaking her head as her brother failed to respond, she took in her surroundings to make certain there wasn't more of an audience. She wouldn't put it past him to be dense enough to invite the three teens into her room while she was unconscious.

Luckily, they were quite alone.

Balen sat in a chair, the only other real piece of furniture in the room. Her sword stood up against the wall by her door. Bright light was pouring through the window, it was certainly well past dawn. There wasn't much else to see, to be honest, so Blaise swung her legs over the edge of her bed.

She felt surprisingly refreshed. **_When are we leaving?_**

She vaguely wondered how far behind the drama with the teens and bandits had put them.

**_When you get up._**

Oh… Of course.

Great, that meant she was the one putting them behind.

Everything must have worked out with the teens then. She was a tad disappointed she had missed Edelgard leaving. She couldn't recall ever working alongside anyone so close to her age besides Balen and it had been an intriguing experience.

Still, mercenaries were mercenaries and they had work to do. She had delayed them long enough.

The blue-haired mercenary reached a hand out to her twin who silently pulled her to her feet. Blaise moved to step around him and grab her sword, feeling his gaze bore into her back. A sure sign he was concerned in that way which was distinctly his. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. **_ I'm fine._**

Balen nodded, slipping by her to lead the way down the stairs.

Her smile faded as she regarded him from behind. What had happened during that battle with the bandits? She had never seen him so... upset. He seemed completely normal now. At least normal for him. How had he known she needed to get back to Edelgard or that she even knew how to find her?

Mentally, she scoffed at herself. Balen had obviously seen the girl wasn't with Blaise as she should have been and acted on it. He would have assumed Blaise at least knew where she was. Any halfway normal person would have been shaken by the prospect of losing track of someone they were meant to be protecting.

Something stirred in the back of her mind, questioning that logic, but she ignored it.

She was more focused on how reckless she had been with Edelgard and berating herself over that anyways. Honestly, what had she been thinking? Just because the girl had one of those strong pulsing things and carried a weapon didn't mean she could take care of herself as Balen could. Blaise stopped short of thinking on the showing off aspect. She couldn't blame the pulsing thing for that when she'd never done that with Balen. Although maybe she was just so excited to come across someone she could be around without Balen and **not** go crazy that she'd, ironically, lost her mind and threw caution to the wind.

Yeah, she needed to work on that on the off-chance she ever came across another person like that... or goddess forbid Edelgard herself.

No sooner had the thought flitted through her head than she followed Balen onto the main floor and stopped dead in her tracks, her gaze locked with lavender.

That certainly wasn't expected.

A flicker of movement from the corner of her eye forced her to look away, finding Balen's fingers halfway through something she didn't quite catch. She shook her head and turned exclusively toward him. She tried to ignore the feeling of being watched but still felt that prickle along her skin. **_Sorry. What did you say?_**

**_You stopped._**

Blaise tilted her head, certain that wasn't everything he had just said. She knew from experience, however,'

that getting him to repeat himself was a lost cause so she didn't push. **_I didn't think they would still be here,_** she admitted, nodding in Edelgard's direction. A quick glance over her shoulder showed all three of the teens sitting by the door and looking at them.

Curiously, the room over was filled with several soldiers in shiny, silver armor of which she didn't recognize but that seemed familiar. She thought she might have heard her father's booming voice among them and she placed her hands on her hips, her brow furrowing.

What in Fodlan's name was going on? And where was their actual mercenary group?

"We're going with them," Balen stated.

Blaise jerked in her surprise, once again looking to her brother. **_With who? ...And where?_**

Balen jabbed a finger at the teens. "With them. They're students at Garreg Mach Monastery and…" his finger shifted to the soldiers in the other room, "…they're the Knights of Seiros," he explained.

The Knights of who now?

And why did a church have students?

So much for feeling refreshed, all this new information was making her head hurt again. She glanced from Balen to the supposed knights in the other room and then to the students. Did she dare ask for answers to her questions? Curiosity was one of her greatest weaknesses so she found her feet taking her toward the students. They sure beat surprisingly rowdy knights who seemed more like mercenaries at the moment.

Blaise had only taken one step before Edelgard, of course noticing her intention to approach, swept to her feet with a surprising amount of presence. The only reason Blaise **didn't** hesitate was Balen's familiar pulsing surrounding her as he matched her step for step.

Back to normal, she told herself despite the suddenly dry mouth she seemed to have.

Maybe she should have gotten some water when she woke up…

Edelgard met them a few steps in front of the boys, sweeping into a very formal bow before lavender eyes were once again upon her as if they were staring into her soul.

She needed to work on her level of intensity. It was downright unsettling.

Still, it was a little more tolerable as she flipped silver hair over her shoulder and smiled faintly. "I apologize. I didn't get the chance to properly thank you for your help back there. Your skill is beyond question though seeing as your father is Jeralt the Blade Breaker, I cannot be surprised. He was oft praised as the strongest knight to ever live and was captain of the Knights of Seiros for many years before his disappearance. Have I missed something?"

Yes.

How about the part where she should have heard this before? She stared at Edelgard long enough that even she shuffled with unease before Blaise shifted her attention to her brother. **_Is all that true?_**

Balen shrugged. "He does seem to know them," he admitted.

Blaise frowned at the ongoing noise from the other room. Were they having a reunion party in there then? She suddenly remembered Edelgard was still standing there, her features now showing some concern, and Blaise's hand shot up in brother's face. **_Tell her I'm sorry. I didn't know he was a Captain... or, you know, anything she just said... except me being skilled cause I do like to think I am... mostly. _**Balen was taking a breath to translate when Blaise realized he'd probably say the whole thing and that was a mortifying thought. **_Wait, don't say that last part. Just stop with that bit about Father being captain of the Knights of whoever._**

Balen rolled his eyes, his equivalent of saying she'd lost her mind but he obediently looked to Edelgard and said a simple, "We didn't know he was a captain."

Yes, that sounded much more composed. And good job Balen on the "We" part. It made her seem… well, at least on par with him.

"How curious," Edelgard mused, eyes flickering between them. "I'd wager the explanation for that is fascinating indeed..."

The boy in yellow had somehow managed to rush forward and throw an arm over Edelgard's shoulder, much to the silver-haired girl's displeasure. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Edelgard?" he prompted. He didn't wait for her to respond, a good call Blaise thought as Edelgard was turning red with annoyance, but he winked at Blaise, an easy-going smile on his face. "Hey, my name's Claude. I hear you and Balen are coming to Garreg Mach Monastery with us. We're students at the Officer's Academy there. I'd be happy to bend your ear as we travel," he offered with another wink and an offer of his hand.

Blaise felt inclined to shake it. He seemed friendly but maybe a bit too friendly. It didn't quite feel genuine, but she smiled slightly in the hopes her reservations weren't too obvious.

The boy in blue slipped in on Edelgard's other side. He notably kept a respectful distance as he bowed to Blaise. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dimitri. I do hope you are feeling better and did not overwork yourself for our benefit."

Blaise shook her head, silently cursing whatever had happened that made her pass out. She was an experienced mercenary, after all, and that certainly didn't make her look like so. She supposed it was nice of him to be concerned though.

Claude scratched his head, his arm slipping from Edelgard's shoulder as she jerked away from him. "Ignore him, Blaise. Dimitri tries to worry about everyone. Besides, I definitely got the worst of those bandits…"

"That would be because you ran off," Edelgard snapped with a sideways glare at him. "Those bandits appeared to have a mission in mind when they attacked our camp and you played right into it," she berated.

"They 'appeared to have a mission?'" Claude quoted with a chuckle. "What? Did you talk to them, Edelgard?"

Edelgard's hand went to her head and she pushed a stray piece of silver hair out of her face. "No, I was simply paying attention when they attacked. If you had not been so busy running away, you would have noticed it was strategically planned on their part. It is no simple feat to bypass the Knights of Seiros," she pointed out.

Blaise raised an eyebrow before nudging Balen with her elbow. **_Why do the students have knights with them?_** She didn't know much about knights but she thought they would have other things to do than hang out with some teenagers.

**_Father said they work for the monastery._**

Blaise frowned as his explanation didn't answer her question but it did place them from the same location. This Garreg Mach Monastery was certainly intriguing. She assumed it was a church as that was what a monastery was but then it had a school and a battalion of knights, as well?

"I was the first to make a strategic retreat," Claude admitted to them, not looking regretful in the slightest. "Everything would have worked out if these two..." he paused to point a thumb at both his companions, "… hadn't followed me and ruined everything. Because of them, every single one of those bandits chased after us. Utterly ridiculous," he explained with a shake of his head.

"Ahh… so that's what you were thinking, Claude." Dimitri leaned around Edelgard. "And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all."

Blaise could not tell whether Dimitri was serious or not but Edelgard apparently believed he was as she spun on him. "His intentions were clear as day. You will prove a lacking ruler if you cannot see the truth behind a person's words," she berated.

Dimitri had a half-smile on his face as he regarded her. "Hmm... You will prove a lacking ruler if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on," he countered.

"Oh joy!" Claude exclaimed, voice dripping with sarcasm. "A royal debate between Their Highnesses. I wonder how being completely predictable affects one's ability to wield power. Personally, as the embodiment of distrust, I would say your little exchange smacks of naiveté."

"Me? Naive?'' Edelgard let out a humorless laugh that ended as quickly as it had begun. "Tell me, are you actually incapable of being quiet or is your lack of self-awareness a condition of some sort?"

Blaise was fairly certain she and Balen had been forgotten in the midst of their little spat and thought it may not be such a bad idea to get that drink now. She gestured her intentions to Balen so he could relay such to them should they notice her slip away.

Except Dimitri chose that moment to speak to them again or at least Balen as he stepped around the arguing Claude and Edelgard to stand in front of her brother.

Blaise noticed Edelgard tense, her features darkening. She didn't know quite why at first as Dimitri apologized on their behalf for their argument but he smoothly transitioned into a proposition that caught Blaise by surprise.

"I must speak with you if you can spare a moment. The way you handled those bandits was captivating. You never lost control of the situation and it shows me I still have much to learn…" Dimitri paused. The kind of pause Blaise knew led to a contract of services.

Definitely the time to go get her water. Balen would just have to suffer on his own. Blaise had turned on her heel and taken two steps away when Edelgard's voice cut in, speaking too fast to be natural, and she found herself waiting despite her better judgment.

"Your skill is precisely the reason why I must ask the both of you..." she put a little extra emphasis on the "both of you" part. Smart knowing her best chance of recruitment was them together, "…to consider lending your services to the Empire. I may as well tell you now. I am no mere student. I am actually the Adrestian Empire's..."

"Halt, Edelgard," Dimitri interrupted and Blaise was actually surprised by the level of annoyance she felt.

Edelgard was the Adrestian Empire's what? Was she a noble?

No, that was stupid. Of course she was a noble. The way she held herself and her manner of speech made that obvious. Maybe she was one of those nobles with a fancy title. The treasurer or something.

"Please allow me to finish my own proposition. Of course it is for both of you. I may not have witnessed your battle with my own eyes, Blaise, but Edelgard has said nothing but praise for your skill and the incapacitation of the leader..."

Interestingly, his words made both Blaise and Edelgard flush.

"… The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus is in dire need of exceptional individuals such as the two of you. Please consider returning to the Kingdom with me."

She blinked, neither her nor Balen responding for several moments, and they were saved from having to answer at all as Claude berated his companions. "Whoa, there! You two sure are hasty. Trying to recruit people you just met. I was personally planning to develop a deep and lasting friendship on our journey back to the monastery before begging for favors but it seems there's no time for niceties in this world..."

Or not. He was just going to try to recruit them too.

"So, capable strangers, let's get right to it. Where does your allegiance lie?" Claude asked.

And again Blaise stared because how were they supposed to answer that? Did they even have an allegiance? And who were they to recruit people anyway? Even nobles couldn't just do that, could they?

**_I thought you said we were going to the monastery..._**

How did they even get on this topic to begin with?

Balen seemed to jerk slightly as she apparently interrupted some deep thought. **_That is what Father said. We could just pick one._**

Blaise shook her head, frowning at Balen. One couldn't just pick an allegiance out of a hat. It brought expectations and it was supposed to have meaning behind it. **_Just tell them most of our work is in the Empire._** That was the truth and left the whole allegiance thing ambiguous.

Balen didn't argue. He rarely did.

Blaise watched the students as he repeated her words and was pleased that they seemed to be acceptable. Nobles knew a politician's answer when they heard one. Edelgard still managed to look a tad smug as she flipped her hair but Claude and Dimitri hardly looked put out. And so Blaise finally managed to excuse herself for that well-deserved canteen of water before the students asked anymore ridiculously probing and personal questions.

Her father had no sooner caught sight of her nursing her freshly filled canteen than he was waving her over to where he stood beside one of the soldiers. The soldier, with an unusual air of familiarity, was grinning as he talked a mile a minute to Jeralt with a drink in hand that Blaise was certain wasn't water. It was a habit Blaise knew her father had but had rarely seen anyone outside their mercenary group have.

For his part, Jeralt was doing his best to glower and respond with short, gruff answers, but Blaise could just see the faintest upward turn of his lips.

"And you must be Blaise!" The soldier turned on her as she closed the distance. "The Captain here has been filling me in about you and your brother, but I must say, you are much prettier than your old man. I wonder how he managed to catch someone as beautiful as your mother..."

"Alois…" Jeralt groaned.

"Alright. Alright," Alois laughed, waving his hand in Jeralt's general direction without looking away from Blaise, "I must thank you for helping protect our students. Young Edelgard said you sent the bandit leader running before he could harm her. Of course my knights and I attempted to find him but you must have really done some damage to him. Couldn't find him anywhere!"

He finished with another chuckle while Blaise blinked. He could talk fast.

"The name's Alois. I always thought of myself as the Captain's right-hand man and it's more than a pleasure to meet you and your brother…"

And talk a lot.

Her father shook his head which he had dropped into his hand. "If you want to make it to the monastery today, we should be leaving now that Blaise is awake," Jeralt hinted.

"Too right you are, Captain! I shall gather everyone now," Alois agreed.

"We will meet you out there. For now, I need to speak with my daughter…"

That sounded ominous.

Blaise almost wished she could call Alois back but, alas, the soldier walked off, calling to his comrades as he did and leaving Blaise with her father. Jeralt was silent for several moments as the room cleared before placing a hand on her shoulder. "You okay, Kid?" he asked.

Of course she'd worried him, passing out and whatnot. She nodded emphatically as if the more she did so the finer she was.

"What happened? I'm not used to you falling out on me. If you aren't feeling well…"

**_I'm fine. I… got dizzy._**

Or something.

Her father stared down at her, searching for a lie, but he eventually nodded. "If you feel something like that coming on again, I want you to go to the infirmary when we get to Garreg Mach Monastery. I take it Balen has told you our change in plans?"

**_Yes, but he didn't say why._**

"I have some unfinished business I need to attend to."

His explanation sounded strangely scripted.

"Come. We need to get moving. And stay near me this time. I don't want you running off again until I know you're fine. Honestly, I never had you pegged as one to go against orders to impress a girl. I should leave you here in the village for that..." Jeralt complained, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

It was an empty threat but Blaise put on her most apologetic expression anyway until she saw her father's lips twitch and she could not help but smile herself.

With a huff at her innocent enjoyment, Jeralt led the way out where everyone was gathering. He left to grab his horse so Blaise once again joined Balen and the students. Claude seemed to be the only one with energy enough to talk. Dimitri and possibly Balen were humoring him by listening while Edelgard was clearly ignoring him. Blaise didn't add anything to the conversation either but stopped next to Edelgard who nodded a silent greeting.

Blaise found that Garreg Mach Monastery was not as long a journey from Remire village as she had expected. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised since she'd heard Claude mention they were only out for a training exercise and it wouldn't make much sense to go far for something of that nature. Still, she, Balen, and her father, while never having lived in Remire, had frequented the village many times in her life. She may even consider it the closest thing she had to a "home town" and she had never once heard of the monastery itself, or the officer's academy as the school was apparently called, or the Knights of Seiros.

And it wasn't even a day's hike into the mountains Remire village was settled outside of.

Blaise knew she had never been a social butterfly for obvious reasons but she wouldn't have described herself as isolated... per se. Clearly, now was the time for reconsideration in that regard.

She watched her father with each step she took.

Why had he never mentioned anything? If he was Jeralt the Blade Breaker, famed former captain of the Knights of Serios, shouldn't it have come up at some point or another?

Blaise cast a glance at her brother as he walked beside her on her right. What did he think about all of this? She'd have asked except her father kept looking back at them, probably keeping an eye on her in case she passed out again. He was almost certain to pick up any gestures she made so she supposed that conversation would have to wait until later.

With no answer to those questions forthcoming in the immediate future, Blaise turned her thoughts to the students walking around them. Edelgard was to her left, looking at the endless expanse of trees they passed through, her brow furrowed.

Thinking, and hard, if Blaise had to guess.

Claude and Dimitri were on Balen's right, the former having fallen quiet at the beginning of their trip.

No doubt a measure of exhaustion had kicked in due to their pre-dawn fight.

That left any conversation to be strictly with Balen who never seemed to tire after a fight. The trick with him was getting him to say more than a few words but she had a topic in mind of which had been plaguing the back of her thoughts all morning. **_What kind of battle did you dream of?_**

Balen tilted his head toward her before he shrugged. **_One army in silver armor and the other more unconventional... light armor, maybe._**

Balen always focused on the oddest details... Armor only came in so many ways.

**_Do you know what they were battling over?_**

Another shrug. **_The woman took a sword from the other general._** Blaise raised an eyebrow at that but didn't respond as Balen had a surprisingly thoughtful expression on his face. **_I wanted the sword too but she got to it first._**

That was unusual. Balen rarely wanted for anything.

Blaise frowned though she supposed a sword would be something Balen would want if he were to want anything and, to be fair, she wouldn't exactly say no to Chevalier's sword if it was put in front of her. She offered a more neutral, **_You wanted the sword?_**

**_It felt right. _**And then Balen did something even more unusual. He asked Blaise about her dream. **_Did you really dream of a woman with green hair?_**

Needless to say, she was quite surprised by his interest and was unable to hide it as she jerked to look at him more directly. Balen was being all sorts of strange today. **_I did… Why?_**

**_The woman who took the sword in my dream had green hair and…_** Balen's hand paused mid-sentence before he let it drop to his side, apparently not going to finish.

The thought drove Blaise crazy. **_And?_**

Balen regarded her, his expression once again unreadable. **_Do you know her name?_**

**_Chevalier, I believe. Do you think they're the same? I liked the sword she carried too. It was a white-silver, slender, and had jewels on the sheath and pommel._**

Balen didn't respond immediately, lost in his own thoughts Blaise guessed, but he eventually shrugged. **_What did Chevalier look like?_**

Blaise thought back to the mysterious woman for something other than her green hair. **_Her eyes were just as green. Kinda tall. She had her hair braided with silver accessories and wore silver armor..._** Oh! The symbol on her breastplate was probably unique. Blaise suddenly dug into the pocket of her cloak until she found the quill she shoved in there in case she needed to write to communicate once at the monastery. **_There was a marking on her armor._** It was almost a circle with five lines coming off at equidistant intervals and shorter markings at the ends of the semicircle. She took care drawing it on the palm of Balen's hand so it was an accurate representation. **_And she sang a song_**. Blaise used a finger to tap the rhythm of the song, the closest thing she had to being able to sing.

After several moments, Balen shook his head. **_Doesn't seem familiar._**

Blaise let out a disappointed sigh as she pocketed her quill back in her cloak. It had been worth a shot.

What she didn't notice was how their conversation had gathered their younger companions' attention. They clearly didn't know what was being said but were looking at Balen's palm with obvious curiosity.

"What's with the crest?" Claude was the one that broke the silence.

Blaise glanced up from pocketing her quill, a slight tilt to her head.

The what?

"Crest?" Balen asked for the both of them.

Claude pointed to the symbol. "The crest of... actually, I don't know which one this is. Dimitri?"

Blaise watched the boy in blue as he narrowed his eyes in thought only to swivel around as Edelgard answered first. "It is the crest of Chevalier." The other girl did not so much as look in their direction but stared straight ahead.

Chevalier? Well, she supposed that made sense then although what Chevalier had done to get a symbol named after her, she didn't understand.

"Right. Chevalier is one of those lost ones no one ever sees. How do you know it?" Claude wondered.

"Blaise had a dream about it."

Oh for the love of...

**_Balen! That's private._** She knew she had flushed three times over in but a few seconds. For his part, Balen didn't see why she thought it was a big deal, but then he didn't have all three students once again staring at him. How was it he kept doing this to her without even meaning to?

"How intriguing." Claude was grinning like a cheshire cat.

Dimitri was also peering around her brother, looking her over. "That is certainly unusual," he remarked. "Dreaming of a crest, especially a lost one which cannot be yours…"

They were making her particularly uncomfortable and she had half a mind to run and join her father for the remainder of the hike.

"Honestly, the two of you..." Edelgard snapped and Blaise made a silent prayer that she would tell them off for staring. "It is her crest so leave her be."

Blaise's relief became confusion. What did she mean by "her crest?"

Her statement did render the other two speechless as their gazes settled on their silver-haired companion.

"You must be mistaken, Edelgard. The crest of Chevalier has not been seen in at least 700 years," Dimitri argued.

Edelgard was not amused. "The only crests to be recorded with any accuracy are those of the noble houses. It is entirely possible it has simply slipped notice. I saw it when she fought the bandit leader," she hissed.

"If you say so, Edelgard. Next, you're going to be telling us it's a major crest she has," Claude laughed.

"What her crest is is none of your business. In fact, I should not have said anything to begin with…" Edelgard frowned at her, "I apologize. It was not for me to say."

Blaise shrugged. She still wasn't sure what that meant or what they were really even talking about.

"It is only right…" Edelgard held her right hand out in front of her and a shadow with a purplish glow formed above it. A similar kind of symbol though this one was a bit reminiscent of a feather in Blaise's opinion, "I have the crest of Seiros," she explained.

Seiros like the knights?

Blaise held her hand out next to Edelgard's as if that would make a shadow appear over hers. Nothing happened. Not that she was particularly surprised by that, mind you.

"It takes practice," Edelgard assured her, allowing her hand to drop. She quirked a half-smile at Blaise. "Perhaps I'll show you sometime. I'm afraid we do not have the time now. We'll be at the monastery soon enough," she explained.

"Soon enough" was a bit of an understatement.

It wasn't five minutes later that the trees thinned quickly and Blaise realized exactly how close they were.

Stepping out of a copse of trees, they stood on the far edge of a valley and, on the other side, situated on the side of a mountain, was nothing short of a castle. Many spiraling towers rose high into the sky, a wall of stone wrapped around as far as her eyes could see, a gate of silver and guarded by more knights was directly across from them. Everything seemed to gleam in the bright sunshine.

She vaguely heard Edelgard's "There it is. Garreg Mach Monastery."

Blaise missed a step at the awe-inspiring view. She missed another step and then halted altogether while the others kept going. Thoroughly unnerved, Blaise's hand tightened on the hilt of her sword.

This wasn't like any place she had ever been before.

What was her father thinking bringing them someplace such as this?

Her eyes flickered around her at the knights a respectful distance away and then back to the guarded and gated entrance. How does one get out of a place like this?

"Kids," her father's voice cut through her clouded thoughts, easing her somewhat. Balen had also stopped only a few steps ahead of her. He was probably waiting on her or he was talented at hiding his own anxiety. His close proximity was welcome. "Enjoy the view some other time. Come along," Jeralt called.

Blaise forced her eyes to focus on him even as she gravitated closer to Balen. She knew her father knew she wasn't admiring the view but said it as a guise to cover how incredibly uncomfortable she was. Blaise took a breath. She wasn't quite able to convince her hand to unclench her sword but she hid her discomfort among quick strides straight to her father, Balen matching her step for step. She reached out for his comforting pulse and let it's beat set her pace. They passed the students without a sideways glance and followed their father through the gates where Blaise hardly noticed the students veered off while they continued straight. They passed a bustling marketplace, walked through a grand entrance hall, continued straight at a fork into a courtyard, and her father stopped.

"Rhea's here," he whispered.

She wasn't sure she was meant to hear it but his tone was ripe with uncertainty. Blaise slowly tore from her straight-before-her tunnel vision to see his gaze raised high. Following it, Blaise saw a woman upon the balcony above them, watching. She had long, green hair and was dressed elaborately but, otherwise, she was too far off for Blaise to make out any details.

The green hair was enough to make her heart pound in her chest.

Torn between curiosity over this Rhea and the anxiety of this new place, Blaise flitted between her father leading the way up the stairs to the second floor and Balen who seemed more interested in his surroundings than what lay ahead.

"It's been years since the last time I set eyes on this place. To be forced to see her now..." Jeralt sighed as he paused outside the doorway of what appeared to be an audience chamber.

There it was. An opportunity to learn something about what was going on. **_You've been here before?_**

He looked to her then, running a hand through his hair, before waving Balen closer. "I've never spoken of this to the two of you before, but… many years ago, I was a knight here. I reported to the archbishop… Lady Rhea," Jeralt admitted.

"Lady Rhea?" Balen repeated.

"As you now know, the majority of folks in Fodlan are devout followers of the teachings of Seiros. The leader of that ridiculously large organization is the archbishop, Lady Rhea," he explained. Jeralt shook his head and waved them along. "Might as well get this over with."

Blaise wasn't sure she agreed but she followed nevertheless as he led the way to the two authority figures in the middle of the chamber.

Her eyes invariably settled on the one that had to be Rhea. It was immediately apparent she was not Chevalier though the possibility of relation couldn't be thrown out. Rhea's hair, partially pulled into an elaborate up-do, was a couple of shades lighter. The same with her eyes. Rhea was also a several inches taller and was wearing some kind of ceremonial garb instead of armor, carrying no weapon. However, her angular features were quite similar.

But that wasn't the only thing Blaise noticed.

She promptly missed a step with her next revelation, only narrowly avoiding a face plant.

Her father cast her a concerned glance but she hardly noticed.

As she was drawing more and more on Balen's pulse to steady her own heartbeat, Blaise felt another pulse in the air around her. It was soft and slow, only barely raising the hair on her arms. It was exactly like her father's, nearly drowned out by Balen's, but it came from Rhea.

She'd begun to think they were individual, what with the three people she had encountered so far having different ones, but then how could her father and Rhea feel the exact same?

Maybe it was just so soft she was missing what was different.

Blaise jumped her pulse from Balen to Rhea, who suddenly glanced at her, and Blaise instinctively tensed. Did she … know? Her father, Balen, and Edelgard hadn't seemed to notice.

She only relaxed marginally when the eyes flickered to Balen.

"A pleasure, Jeralt. My name is Seteth. I am an advisor to the archbishop." Blaise saw the man beside Rhea bow from the corner of her eye.

"Right. Hello."

Rhea looked away from Balen to smile at Jeralt but it didn't put Blaise any more at ease. "It has been a long time, Jeralt. I wonder…" Green eyes flickered to Balen and back so fast Blaise was certain if she hadn't been staring as she was she would have wondered whether it happened or not. "... was it the will of the Goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?" she mused.

Blaise swore her father too glanced at Balen before replying to Rhea. "Forgive my silence all these years. Much has happened since we last spoke."

"So I see," Rhea agreed, this time smiling overtly at Balen before moving to Blaise. "The miracle of fatherhood has blessed you. These are your children, are they not?" she guessed.

"Yes, born many years after I left this place," Jeralt coughed in a rare show of tension. Why was he being so weird about it? "I wish I could introduce you to the mother of my children but... I'm afraid we lost her to illness." He finished at least a little more strongly.

"I see," Rhea stated, pausing to bow just slightly in a sign of respect. "My condolences…" She turned fully to Balen and Blaise, the latter having shifted closer with all the quick glances at her brother. "Might I ask your names? I heard of your valiant efforts from Alois."

"My name is Balen." Of course, he was quick to answer.

Blaise, not so much. Having jumped her pulse between Rhea and her father at least five times since the conversation started and determining they truly seemed to be the same was thrown by the thought. It made her slow to sign.

Seteth scoffed at her silence and it drew Blaise from her stupor, instinctively clenching the hilt of her sword. She knew Balen did the same beside her. "You must at least show the basic courtesy of telling us your name! Do you not think you are being a bit rude to the archbishop?"

She really noticed him for the first time. Tall, dark green hair more akin to Chevalier's, green eyes, but he had a much more stern expression though it may have been in part to the glare he was sending her. Blaise didn't get much more of a look as her father stepped before her.

"My children have never been one of many words," Jeralt admitted with a hint of a warning in his tone.

Or any words in Blaise's case but she appreciated her father not singling her out.

Rhea had also taken a step closer to the two men, her hands parted. "Peace, Jeralt," she assured him before turning to her companion. "It is alright, Seteth."

Seteth grunted his displeasure but said nothing else and her father slowly moved back to his original position.

Satisfied with their reactions, Rhea nodded and smiled once again to Blaise. Then to Blaise's surprise, she raised her hand and signed as she spoke, "My dear, I am called Rhea. I am the archbishop of the Church of Seiros. In truth, I was only being polite. I already know your name and a fine name it is, Blaise."

And Blaise couldn't help it then. She smiled with relief.

Rhea's signing was quick and precise, a rarity outside her brother who had basically used it his entire life despite being able to speak if he so chose. Even her father could be slow, much preferring to speak and only knowing how to sign to understand what she was saying or the rare occasion he didn't want someone to overhear them.

She had been worried no one would be able to communicate with her without Balen or her father at her constant beck and call.

"From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for saving those students of the Officer's Academy," Rhea continued.

The archbishop bowed low and Blaise could practically feel the sharp gaze from Seteth. It was definitely not normal for those in high positions to bow to them. She fought not to squirm.

"Hmph," her father grunted, his head dropping into his hand.

Rhea smiled as she straightened. "Jeralt. You already know what it is I wish to say, do you not?"

"You want me to rejoin the Knights of Seiros, don't you? I won't say no but…"

Blaise couldn't contain a slight start at his answer. She hadn't even considered the thought of staying for a length of time. He had said he had "unfinished business," not a new job offer.

"Your apprehension stings," Rhea sighed and Blaise had to look at her to realize she wasn't speaking of her but her father. "I had expected that Alois would have already asked this of you... I must step away for now but l expect they will desire a word with you soon. Please listen carefully to what they have to say. Until tomorrow… farewell."

They were ushered out rather quickly, Seteth sending them across the hall to another room.

"Captain's quarters," her father muttered, letting out a deep sigh at his misfortune the moment Seteth left them alone.

Blaise took the time to scan the room. It was fancier than what she was used to but that wasn't saying much. Still, she was certain it was finely decorated with top-notch upholstery and furniture. There was a long, sturdy table adequate for meals or paperwork, a sitting area positioned around a window overlooking the courtyards, another couple of doorways suggested more rooms.

"Don't get too comfortable. I'm certain this isn't permanent," Jeralt warned.

Blaise didn't expect such and so wasn't bothered. She crossed the room to the window. Shifting the curtains to the side, she settled to watch the comings and goings below. If she was meant to stay here, she really needed to get used to some of this.

After a moment, Balen joined her in one of the chairs.

"I will go get us something from the dining hall... unless you two want to try your hand at finding those brats you took to so well."

She didn't have to look at him to know he was teasing them. They had never taken well to anybody… though, now that he mentioned it, Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard had probably been their best attempt in their lives thus far. She shook her head anyway, definitely feeling in need of a break.

"No, thanks," Balen followed.

The door closed with a soft thump and Blaise let out her own deep sigh, slumping against the window. She ran a hand through her hair, her head tilting to face Balen. **_What do you think? _**

**_It's... different_**

A simple answer yet Blaise wasn't sure she could articulate it any better.

She watched a pair of students run below and it made her tense. Running had always meant danger to her yet she could see enough of their facial expressions to know that wasn't the case with them. They were laughing. Someone's yell trickled up to her but it wasn't an order, only some bit of useless information for another on the other side of the courtyard. There were small clusters of people all around, certainly more people than she had ever had to be around before.

She might be able to handle it if some of them could sign but she wasn't sure Rhea was an accurate representation of the Monastery's inhabitants. And then what about Balen who was even more reclusive than her?

How were mercenaries supposed to live in a monastery anyway? Especially as their father was doing goodness knows what as a knight.

Their father was a whole other story that made her head hurt.

**_Father didn't tell us much._**

Balen blinked at her. **_No. He had reasons._**

He probably did, Blaise could agree, but why was it he felt necessary to hide so much? **_To what end, I wonder._**

Because now it had come around and she felt lost and, looking at Balen, she worried.

Her father came back not much later, shaking his head as he walked in the door. Blaise guessed Rhea's "l expect they will desire a word with you soon" had already happened. Her suspicions were confirmed with the next words out of his mouth. "I can't believe it. Forced back into the Knights of Seiros." His eyes met hers from across the room before shifting to Balen next to her. "I'm sorry I dragged you two into this. Looks like I'll be stuck here for a while... and I'm afraid your services are requested as well."

Blaise's eyebrow shot up at that. What could they possibly want from them? **_As a mercenary?_**

Surely, he didn't mean as some kind of servant.

Jeralt rubbed the back of his neck, suspiciously not meeting her eyes.

"They want Balen to teach by the sound of it. You heard those brats earlier talking about the Officer's Academy, right?" He didn't wait for a response. "Well, the Academy just happens to be short a professor and that damned Alois went and recommended Balen to Lady Rhea," he explained.

Blaise could only find it in herself to stare, waiting for the "just kidding" or the punch line to this very bad joke. They wanted Balen, of all people, to teach a class?

…

And exactly where did that leave her?

Her father put his hands in the air at Balen's glare. At least he seemed to think it was a bad idea too. "Hey, don't give me that look. I didn't recommend you," he insisted.

"I can't teach," Balen stated as if he had forgotten that fact.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Kid. You've trained more than your fair share of mercenaries and these brats aren't likely to be put in any real danger, too much money and politics in them," he assured him.

That was all fine and dandy but… hello ...?

"What am I supposed to do?" Balen pressed.

"For now, eat. You won't be given the assignment until tomorrow and you can argue about it then if you want."

Blaise felt her temper rising and was forced to slide off the windowsill, allowing her shoes to stomp on the floor to get the men's attention. **_What about me?_** She crossed her arms against her chest.

Her father still wouldn't look her in the eye and there was a very obvious pause before he muttered a "you can work with me."

Like she hadn't even been considered for anything else. Or perhaps even forgotten altogether.

Blaise didn't grace that with a response but spun on her heel. She chose one of the adjacent rooms at random, making certain to slam the door behind her.

_A/N:_

_Thanks everyone for your interest! Following chapters will probably be shorter but with less of the straight canon conversations so hopefully that will make up for the length. This one feels a bit choppy to me but I'm attempting not to be too perfectionistic with it or I'll never update. Haha._

_There will be a certain few who will know Fodlan sign but I don't want to spoil who. :)_

_I do not want to admit the amount of time it took me to figure out how to type accented vowels (embarrassingly long) and I didn't even consider they can go in two different directions. I will update the previous chapter to Névé and be sure to use it in the future chapters. Luckily, it's still early on! This chapter is more Balen/Blaise as you can see, trying to develop their relationship. I'm open to ideas so don't be shy! Review or send a PM with thoughts or musings._

_Real diverging begins now. Stay tuned to see where it goes._


	4. Chapter 3

Blaise was still in a horrid mood the next morning. So much so, she ignored any attempt by her father to draw her out. In the end, it was Balen who dragged her out, her twin asking her to accompany him to get the assignment.

And Blaise couldn't say no to him.

It wasn't like he had asked to be a teacher and for her to be...well, nothing.

Blaise complied with his request, grabbing a breakfast roll as she crossed the room in Balen's shadow. Maybe she would give Rhea a speech to remember when she saw her.

That thought made her feel a little better so she didn't even give her father the cold shoulder when it became apparent he was coming as well.

They crossed the hall and back into the audience chamber in their usual silence.

Rhea wasn't there.

Blaise wasn't sure if she was disappointed by that or not.

Seteth also wasn't there and she definitely wasn't upset about that.

But there was another man and woman in the center of the chamber. The woman was tall, slender, and gorgeous enough to be in some kind of showing. Her hair was brown and cut to her chin, her clothing fashionable though Blaise thought it a tad risqué. At least for a monastery… and a school. The woman was talking quite rapidly to a man quite her opposite. An older gentleman with graying hair who may or may not have been listening to her at all. He noticed them first, straightening to his full height as he settled his monocle on his eye.

The action of her companion had the woman spinning around, her brown eyes doing a once over of them before settling on Jeralt.

Blaise couldn't help but notice her fur-lined cloak slipped from her shoulders.

"So, you must be the new professor. My, how stern and handsome you are," the woman cooed. She walked a half-circle around Jeralt.

"Er, no, I'm not the one you're looking for," Jeralt declined, lightly pushing Balen forward and effectively transferring the attention to him. An act that Blaise was actually glad wasn't done to her. "You can handle things from here, Balen. Your sister and I have another engagement."

Blaise frowned, feeling quite cheated. **_But Balen said he wanted me to..._**

**_Balen needs to do this on his own. _**Her father's gestures were sharp. He had no intention of arguing with her over it, that much was obvious.

Blaise let her hand drop.

**_It's okay. I'm fine,_** Balen signed his assurance.

It might have made her feel better had there been an actual choice involved. Balen had been stabbed through the hand before and said he was fine though, to be fair, for all the reaction he had to it he may as well have been.

But it still didn't mean he was.

Helplessly, she watched as Jeralt whispered something to her brother before ushering her out of the chamber. They didn't go very far, her father stopping to face her only a corridor over. He looked at her no-doubt-seething expression and sighed, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose."I know you're upset about this, Blaise, but you know how beneficial this will be for Balen."

Of course she could see how it could help him but why was her father so concerned now? He could have started this years ago before… well, frankly, before they lost much of their ability to function without the other. They had a good system now. Balen was her voice, she was his expression.

Was it really that bad?

And, even if it was, why were they so insistent on thoroughly separating them? Couldn't they do it slowly or something?

She didn't say either of those thoughts, instead, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall with a silent huff.

Jeralt sighed again, this time his hand moving to grip her shoulder."The current Captain of the Knights of Seiros is getting on in age. I'm going to have a meeting with him now, see what kind of duties I can shoulder. In the meantime, Rhea requested an audience with you..."

Blaise quirked an eyebrow.

Did she now?

"Stay on your guard but do listen to what she says. I have no idea what she's thinking, making Balen a professor the way she has, but she's always had… reasons."

That Blaise didn't doubt.

She had half a mind to refuse the audience altogether but she did have that speech prepared and it would be an ideal time to give the Archbishop a piece of her mind.

So Blaise didn't argue but waited without further conversation in the corridor until Balen and the other two professors left the audience chamber. Blaise managed an encouraging thumbs up to Balen before her father dragged her back inside and to a room on the left.

Rhea was inside and situated at a ridiculously small table. She pointed Blaise into the vacant seat at said table which the mercenary reluctantly slipped into as her father left with only a pointed look that clearly told her to behave.

Apparently, they were having tea.

The concept of which was very unusual to Blaise.

Sitting across from the tall green-haired woman she barely knew with a cup delicate enough to break if she simply held it wrong had her completely thrown out of her element. Then the tea itself came in a plethora of varieties.

She only stared as Rhea listed off a number of them before she smiled and chose for them.

Chamomile, Blaise thought she decided on.

As if to add fuel to the fire, Balen was getting quite far away, making her squirm and her skin itch with discomfort. She contemplated whether Rhea's or Balen's pulse would be worse at this point.

The grand speech she had prepared to give the Archbishop had been thrown out the window.

What could she say? Without Balen or her father, Rhea made her feel as if she was little more than a child.

And…

Well, the sweet smiles were surprisingly welcome even if she questioned how genuine they were.

Damn her.

She crossed her arms and sunk in her seat like a pouting child as Rhea poured tea into her own cup.

"It gets easier," Rhea's voice, soft and calm, drew Blaise from her silent ranting before the Archbishop took a small sip of her tea.

Blaise supposed she should do the same and raised the steaming cup to her lips. An herbal twang filled her tastebuds which she wouldn't say was unpleasant. **_What gets easier?_**

Instead of answering, Rhea smiled another one of those soft expressions and slid one of her hands across the table."May I?" she asked.

May she what?

Rhea must have taken her silence as affirmation because she slowly slid her hand under Blaise's and raised it from the table. **_Hold yours there, _**she signed with her free hand before lowering hers until Blaise's hand hovered about six inches above hers.

Eyeing Rhea suspiciously, Blaise suddenly felt a surge of something shoot through her. It was not painful though it did surprise her, making her jump in her seat. She felt heat coursing through her veins of which she thought she might have felt when she'd jumped between Edelgard and the bandit leader. Then, between her and Rhea's hands, that symbol manifested in soft purple light.

Her symbol, Edelgard had said.

"The Crest of Chevalier..." Rhea murmured in such a way Blaise suspected she was thinking aloud.

Rhea didn't seem surprised by the crest but her smile was gone, replaced with a calculating expression that made Blaise shift in her seat. She was staring at the crest so hard she seemed to have forgotten Blaise was there at all.

For Blaise's part, she was acutely aware of Rhea's pulse in the air surrounding her, her skin prickling like static to the slow but surprisingly loud beat. Interestingly, it was so loud she couldn't feel Balen anymore. Blaise had half a mind to break whatever this was between them...

Except she wasn't quite ready to stop seeing Chevalier's crest that Rhea was somehow drawing from her.

"Each crest endows certain… abilities to those blessed with them. Chevalier was said to have a unique talent which has been debated for centuries…" Blaise tore her gaze from the shadow of her crest, finding Rhea watching her with an intensity that rivaled Edelgard's. "... Some believe it was specific to her, some do not believe it to be anything more than a story, others believe it was linked to her crest. Of course, with her crest lost to history, it was believed the answer died with her. Do you know what talent I speak of, Child?" she asked.

Blaise shook her head, Rhea's tone captivating her so she leaned across the table despite herself.

"The name it was given was Resonance. Chevalier could distinguish individuals by the crest they bore. She was said to have described it as a heartbeat but not of the heart itself but the crest…"

The heartbeat of a crest?

Was that the pulsing she felt? Did that mean her brother and father had a crest? She did know Edelgard had the crest of Seiros so maybe...

"… Through it, she could draw on others and vice versa..."

Blaise's gaze shifted to the crest held between their hands and thought of the heat coursing through her veins. It certainly seemed as if Rhea was pulling it through her somehow. She hesitated and then finally wrenched her hand away.

The effect was immediate.

She felt cold and distant as if Rhea was terribly far away instead of on the other side a small table. Blaise reached a slightly trembling hand out for her tea, suddenly glad of it's warmth, before raising her hand. **_Why is it different with some but the same with others?_**

**_You must remember Chevalier was the first bearer of the crest as were the other crest bearers of the time. There were yet to be any descendants and so each was unique. There may now be more than one person bearing the same crest. It is also possible you may feel the difference between major and minor crests. I expect minor crests would be more difficult to decipher. You are still young, still developing. It all comes in time._**

That… seemed to make sense.

**_What crest do you have? _**Blaise wasn't sure how appropriate a question that was to ask but Rhea was all into hers so she thought it fair in this case.

Rhea smiled and the purple glow filled the air between them. It looked like Edelgard's but different. Bigger maybe?

**_I possess the Major Crest of Seiros_**.

Blaise frowned at that. That actually didn't make sense. Why would Edelgard's minor crest be so much stronger than the major one? Shouldn't it be the other way around?

There was something in the way Rhea was watching her...

**_How does your brother's- Balen's- compare?_**

Was she supposed to answer that? It seemed oddly personal and Edelgard had implied it was rude to speak of another's crest without their permission. Besides, she didn't even know he bore one. She could be feeling something else.

Rhea could be wrong.

Blaise kind of didn't think she was but she could be. She had no real evidence to back up this Resonance claim.

**_You can tell me if I am wrong but I suspect it is stronger than mine. Your father has told me of your… you can hardly stand being in a separate room._**

Why was her father telling Rhea this stuff? She thought he'd told her to be careful but then he was just telling Rhea their life story?

**_And that is the curse of Chevalier's talent. Balen was more obviously reliant upon you, taking hold his sword after you felt threatened and took yours, but, in this way, you are just as dependent. I understand you have reservations with how I appointed him as a professor without you to help, however, I hope you can understand I only want what is best for the both of you. Jeralt has said he had never promoted independence with the two of you._**

Potentially fair, no matter how much Blaise disliked the why? Why did it matter to her when it hadn't bothered her father since they'd been born? What right did she have to decide what was best for them?

Just who the hell was Rhea?

**_Now, I bet you are curious as to what I would like you to do here in the monastery..._**

Yes, actually, among other things.

Blaise simply gave a short nod. **_Father said I would be helping him._**

Rhea took another sip of her tea but, this time, abandoned Sign in order to speak. "In a manner of speaking, I agree. In a few days time select individuals from our three houses of students will perform a mock battle against each other, allowing us to assess their skills and abilities. Jeralt has kindly agreed to act as an observer from the skies. It will be his duty to keep track of the battle as a whole, however, we still need eyes on the ground to ensure all rules are being followed. As you can imagine, the competitive nature of the battle can lead to some arguments as to who won. I would appreciate if you would agree to oversee one of the houses. There will be several meetings between now and then to explain your exact responsibilities but, in short, you will determine what is considered a fatal blow in this exercise and ascertain the correct student stands down. Might you be interested?"

The idea of a mock battle sounded quite silly to her. She assumed they didn't use real weapons so how was that an accurate portrayal of skills and abilities? **_Why don't the professors do that?_**

Rhea actually laughed at that, a soft sound that Blaise was relieved didn't sound spiteful. "Our professors are expected to partake in the battle, as well, and I am afraid they have a tendency to be as biased as their students."

Blaise sat back in her chair, taking another sip of her tea. **_Training is involved?_**

"Of course, you will be well prepared. If you were to agree I would place you with Professor Manuela. She has some understanding of Sign, if that is a concern."

Blaise had never needed to be concerned of such before. Most of their mercenaries knew enough to communicate so, even if there was a new face who hadn't picked it up yet there were others to help. Not to mention Balen and her father. It was occurring to her more that wouldn't be the case any longer.

It was a concern.

Her stomach started doing flips.

She willed it away, berating herself for being silly.

**_Okay._**

She wondered if she was going to regret agreeing to this as Rhea's smile brightened.

Balen chose the Golden Deer House, led by Claude, otherwise known as the heir of the leading duke of the Alliance territory. That latter bit of information was a tad of a shock as was Dimitri being Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Faerghus and Edelgard being the Imperial Princess.

So much for her Minister of Monetary Affairs, or whatever complicated name the Empire gave the equivalent of Treasurer, theory. Edelgard was the goddamn heir to the title of Emporer.

If that didn't make her feel like an idiot, she didn't know what would.

But, still, she thought Balen chose well.

Claude seemed to be quite a people person and he would help Balen navigate the social aspect of his new position.

Frankly, she was kind of jealous.

Because no one was helping her. And she had yet to come across any people besides her father, Balen, and Rhea who knew Sign. In theory, Professor Manuela knew "some" but Blaise had been generally discouraged from interacting with her and the Black Eagle house (also Edelgard's house which was probably a good thing in case she embarrassed herself more) in order to prevent bias though why they didn't think she would be biased toward Balen was beyond her.

Likely an oversight on their part or they were very optimistic of her moral standing.

As it was, she didn't have to dwell much on her social woes simply because the days leading to the mock battle were busy with Seteth instructing her and the other chosen two on what they were doing.

They were strictly there to observe. Under no circumstances were they meant to give advice or direction (He said this often and with a glare at her). It was best if they stayed close enough to see but remain out of sight if at all possible. Use their judgment on who to watch should their house split as part of their strategy. No lying. If a student was hit in the heart or neck, they were to drop their weapon and kneel, signifying defeat. Multiple smaller hits were up to their discretion.

Blaise personally felt if they could still stand then they were okay to keep battling but she didn't think that was what Seteth technically had in mind.

That was how her day dragged on…

She would be lying if she said the evening wasn't hard.

The Dining Hall had quickly become her least favorite place ever. She may even go so far as to say it was her nightmare personified.

It was always so crowded in the evening with all classes and drills over for the day.

She was thoroughly unprepared the first time she set foot inside for dinner. The evening was supposed to be a time she could actually spend with Balen and so they made plans to meet in the Dining Hall.

Easy, right?

Of course she'd noticed it was crowded and loud and unsettling but she could deal with that…

Except she couldn't find Balen in the mess of people.

She could even deal with that normally because her resonance or pulse thing or whatever one wanted to call it would lead her to him.

Unfortunately, Blaise just didn't make it that far.

Her cheerful demeanor at getting to see her brother took an abrupt downward turn as she'd found herself surrounded by a bunch of people. Balen was on the other side so, naturally, she tried to slip through… only for someone to grab her arm and pull her back.

Caught off guard, Blaise yanked her arm from their rough hold and massaged the discomfort away as she glared at them.

A girl around her age but maybe a little younger. Her hair was a chestnut color and she was glaring with just as much intensity as Blaise."You can't cut," she snapped.

Cut?

**_I'm trying to get across to my brother._**

The girl's expression somehow got worse.

It was the first time Blaise had Signed and gotten that look.

Disdain.

The girl made gestures back but Blaise knew they weren't Sign. She didn't know exactly what they meant but she got the gist and found herself shrinking where she stood.

"I don't know what your problem is but you have to go to the back of the line."

Okay, so, she didn't understand Sign. Blaise pointed to the other side of the line in the general direction of Balen before attempting, more warily, to slip through a second time.

The girl stepped in front and waved a hand in the direction perpendicular to where she wanted to go. "The line goes that way. Honestly, haven't you ever been in a dining hall before?"

Blaise had to fight not to stomp her foot in her frustration. She wasn't trying to get in line! Knowing a losing battle when she saw one, she swallowed her frustration and slinked off towards the back of the line, trying to ignore how the girl was complaining about her to her neighbor.

She only went a few students down before she crossed over between a couple of guys who could care less.

She forced the incident from her mind.

But then the next night the whispers started because word had begun to spread as it does in a place full of teenagers. Could she really not talk or did she not like to, did she just not know how, was that a problem among commoners?

She heard them as she passed although she pretended not to. The side glances and stares snowballed with stunning ferocity until she felt as if she was some poor creature in an exhibit any time she found herself traversing anywhere in the monastery. She even heard some of the monks when she went to the library as if not being able to speak meant she couldn't read.

It had only been two full days and she found she hated the monastery.

Balen attempted to comfort her in that way that was uniquely his. He told her to ignore them and then changed the subject to his plans for the mock battle.

It was a good distraction of which she appreciated and it wasn't technically against the rules since she had only been told not to offer her own input. Seteth hadn't said anything about Balen not talking to her about it.

She had mixed feelings as Claude joined them for dinner that second night, adding his strategy suggestions to Balen's. Claude was fun and had interesting points but it meant Balen spoke to her less and more to them as a group.

Which meant she didn't respond much at all.

Yet she was glad he'd been able to use the last day and a half sparring, strategizing, and understanding his new students. He was no doubt the underdog but already had a good idea who would be joining him.

Claude and himself were required. Then a girl named Hilda who, she gathered, was a front fighter. Marianne who might need some convincing since she was shy and had low self-esteem but was a talented young mage and healer. A guy named Lorenz was vetoed because Balen wasn't sure he would listen. Instead, Balen went out on a limb and chose a second mage. Lysithea, Blaise thought her name was.

It was a bit of a risk having only two front fighters and three ranged but Claude was confident in his ability to defend himself should Balen and Hilda need to protect Marianne and Lysithea. Then, as Claude pointed out, there was the fact Balen was… well, luck to anyone trying to take him on.

Privately, Blaise agreed.

She didn't know what the other houses had planned but Balen's was solid.

And, she had to face the fact, he hadn't needed her to do it.

_A/N: Merry Christmas everybody!_

_Honestly, this is only about half of what I wanted to put in this chapter but time got away from me and I wanted to give you guys __**something**__ before Christmas. Bright side, the other half is almost done and should come shortly._

_Thanks for the reviews and PM's. If you are waiting on a PM from me, I apologize for the delay and I promise to get back to everyone within a few days after Christmas. An extended shopping trip has thrown my schedule off. :)_

_Since several of you have asked, I considered all the houses for Balen but knew quickly that I didn't want him in the Black Eagles. That would split Edelgard's __**and**__ Blaise's attention from each other which is not what I wanted. From there, I knew I wanted Manuela to teach the Black Eagles. Since Manuela chooses Black Eagles as long as Byleth does not and the same with Hanneman and Blue Lions, it seemed natural for Balen to go Golden Deer. _

_Edelgard was supposed to be in this chapter but latter half of it so... next update, I promise._

_To answer Katlizhan's question, I haven't any plans at this point to switch to Balen's perspective but I will not say definitively "no." Unless you're really good at it, switching back and forth can disrupt the story. However, if it happens naturally than I'm not against it and, who knows, maybe there will at least be a special chapter for him._

_Continue to speculate via review or pm. I enjoy each and every one of them._

_Again, Merry Christmas!_


	5. Chapter 4

That final day before the mock battle, Blaise was supposed to meet with all the houses simply so they knew who she was, knew why she was there watching them if they happened to notice her, and knew not to attack her. Accidents happen, Seteth had said, but they try to minimize them.

Thing was, no one had told her where the classrooms were. She hadn't gotten a real tour of the campus and the ground level was especially foreign to her, having only frequented the path to the dining hall. She vaguely recalled walking past the classrooms when they came in the first day… they'd more or less come straight up the middle, right?

Blaise had tried to follow Rhea's advice and limit... resonating, but Balen was probably in his classroom already so she could follow that general direction and make it where she needed to be.

Nodding encouragement to herself that her plan was, in fact, a good one, she set off.

Down the stairs and to the left… No, she'd gone too far left. There were a lot of students leaving the rooms here. She quickly spun on her heel and turned around before anyone noticed her. Alright, back at the stairs, she needed to go South and to the West so maybe she would just go South and there would be somewhere to cross over further down.

She chose the middle corridor, hardly pausing to think it through. After all, if you acted like you knew what you were doing, people often thought you did.

She walked through some courtyards and there were some pathways in the correct direction. Blaise peeked at them but they appeared to be gardens so she kept going.

Perhaps she should have risked the gardens as she ended up in another grand hall she vaguely recognized as being near the Dining Hall. There were some students with red on their uniforms though and it would be quicker to just ask.

Blaise shoved her hand in her cloak for her quill and paper, she'd more or less given up on Sign at this point, and scribbled her question down. _Can you tell me how to get to the Black Eagles Classroom?_ She tried to keep her expression carefully neutral as she waved and garnered the attention of one of the girls in a group of four students.

She got that look again.

The "why was she being weird, passing a piece of paper instead of asking" look.

Blaise was beginning to turn as red as the accents on their uniform the longer the girl waited. Did she expect her to start talking if she waited long enough?

In an act of desperation, Blaise attempted her question with Sign.

Still nothing except four pairs of eyes stared at her.

Finally, one of the boys cleared his throat and Blaise faced him, hoping against hope. "You're the one who can't speak," he stated.

Her hopes dashed, Blaise tried not to get visibly upset. But, really, wasn't that obvious? She nodded anyway just to get it over with and pointed to her written question. Please answer the question. She just needed to get to the Black Eagle classroom!

"Oh yeah…" the girl she had given her question to exclaimed, a finger touching her lip as she looked Blaise up and down. "…you're that mercenary. The classrooms are through that door, to the right, and…"

"She's not going to be able to find it…" a second boy interrupted.

Blaise frowned at his tone. She wasn't stupid. The only reason she wouldn't be able to find the classroom was if they couldn't give directions correctly. Blaise dragged out another sheet of paper. _I can find it if you give me the directions._

But they weren't paying her any more attention.

"We should probably take her."

"Someone might be looking for her. Are you supposed to be with someone?"

"You shouldn't wander off. The Knights have other things to do than spending their time tracking you down…"

Blaise was going to walk away. She'd rather wander aimlessly around the grounds than suffer this. Actually, she thought Balen might be coming up behind her now. He did have a wonderful sense of timing.

"She doesn't need an escort if you would give her directions like she asked."

That … was definitely not Balen.

Blaise winced at the unexpected voice. As if this wasn't humiliating enough, Edelgard had to find her this way. She was slow to glance over her shoulder but, sure enough, there Edelgard was in all her Imperial glory, a tall, dark-haired young man hovering a step behind like some kind of shadow.

Edelgard's presence was somewhat concerning in more ways than one. Had she… accidentally followed Edelgard's pulse instead of Balen's? Was it possible to be that rusty in a day?

"Lady Edelgard!" the boy across from her snapped into a bow so fast she jerked out of her thoughts vaguely wondering if he was going to experience whiplash later.

She also wondered if she should bow as well. She was unfamiliar with etiquette as she had been told a time or two before.

Edelgard only acknowledged them with a nod, stepping around to face Blaise directly. The mercenary noticed the group of four rush away as the dark-haired man glared at them. It was an unsettling glare she could admit. "I take it Seteth failed to ensure you were given a tour," Edelgard stated.

That was accurate.

She nodded.

The man made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. "I cannot say I am surprised. The archbishop and her advisor have frequent oversights when it comes to their subordinates." He stressed that word with a curl of his lip.

"Unfortunately, Hubert is right. However, I had thought they would be more attentive… considering."

Considering?

Blaise raised an eyebrow as she scribbled on paper, _Considering what?_

"Well…" Edelgard hesitated, her brow furrowing, "…perhaps I am wrong but the Archbishop appears to have her hands in the going ons of your father and brother. I hear they have reported to her directly multiple times in the short time the three of you have been at Garreg Mach. It is unusual," she explained.

The man, Hubert she presumed, crossed his arms. "You are not incorrect in your observation, Lady Edelgard."

Blaise could see her father meeting frequently with Rhea, but Balen too? She felt another rock in her stomach at the thought. Neither of them had mentioned anything to her. She sighed, returning her attention to her writing. _I do not think Rhea likes me very much._

Her note seemed to pique their interest, Edelgard tilting her head while Hubert narrowed his eyes. "Truly?" Edelgard asked. "What makes you say that?"

Blaise shrugged. _She looked at me funny._

Call it a hunch.

_And not the funny look everyone else gives me._

Because, let's face it, she'd gotten a lot of funny looks lately.

"Then forget them. They are not worth the effort," Edelgard insisted.

It was close to what Balen had said. They didn't seem to understand she couldn't quite do that but she knew it was meant to be encouraging. She could appreciate that so she did not reply.

"Blaise, I would like to introduce you to Hubert von Vestra. He has been my companion since I was a child. He enjoys looking dour but he's really quite astute and reasonable, " Edelgard continued with a wave toward the calculating young man.

"You flatter me, Lady Edelgard…" Hubert drawled before fixing his "dour", as Edelgard had called it, expression on Blaise.

If Edelgard wasn't there, she would consider whether Hubert was plotting her death.

Maybe he was anyways.

Still, he swept into a low bow. "I hear you came to the aid of Lady Edelgard. You have my most sincere thanks."

Blaise acknowledged him with a nod.

Edelgard, turning slightly pink at the exchange, flipped her hair as if to reestablish her composure. "Hubert, would you please move ahead and ensure Linhardt and Bernadetta make it to the classroom? Send Dorothea for Bernadetta, if necessary. If Blaise is joining us, I expect everyone to be in attendance," she ordered.

Hubert was quick to bow a second time. "As you wish. I will see to it now." He stared at Blaise in such a way she guessed he was not pleased with leaving Edelgard with her but then he was gliding off to the right and she could breathe a bit easier again.

Until Edelgard spoke from beside her.

"I admit I was hoping you and your brother might lend your strength to the Empire. I understand Balen accepted a teaching position but I still feel inclined to assure you my offer stands should you desire it in the future. I regret I was never able to properly introduce myself to you. I'm certain you have heard by now, yes?"

The Imperial Princess bit? Yep, heard that, fretted over it, been there.

To Edelgard she simply wrote it off even as she questioned the appropriateness of it.

Good thing Hubert left.

_You weren't kidding about the "no mere student" bit._

Luckily, Edelgard's lips twitched upwards.

That was good. She must not be screwing up too badly.

Around them, the clock chimed and echoed through the hall.

"Professor Manuela should have arrived by now. Are you ready to see the classroom? Really you were almost there. The classrooms are out those doors and the Black Eagle's is on the end closest to the stairs," Edelgard explained. She took a few steps in the indicated direction before pausing to glance back.

There was a slightly awkward pause as she did so, Blaise debating whether to respond or just follow and assume Edelgard would understand it as her answer. She wanted to write but it seemed a waste of time for such a trivial answer and Edelgard already moving.

"Are you okay?" Edelgard's question had her glancing up from her notepad to find her with a concerned frown. She was doing that soul-staring thing again as if she could read Blaise's mind or something if she stared at her hard enough.

Blaise didn't know what she wanted to say but she nodded anyway, shoving her paper and quill into her pocket and smiling what she hoped was a convincing smile. She wasn't confident though and she was sure Edelgard didn't buy it but the silver-haired girl said nothing of it and Blaise fell into step next to her.

In a manner of speaking.

It was more of a reluctant shuffle alongside Edelgard. It was really beginning to hit her she was about to meet **more** students and… she didn't feel prepared.

So she quit thinking and focused on her breathing but it wasn't enough to calm the jitters in her hands.

She really missed Balen in that moment. He was always calm, always confident… like a rock. Yes, he was a rock, strong, steady, constant while Blaise felt like water being pulled along by a current.

This was too hard.

Rhea didn't know what she was talking about and had to be exaggerating the consequences of Resonance.

Because Blaise **needed** it. She really did.

It was like telling the sun not to shine or a bee not to harvest pollen. It was what they were made to do. It wasn't right to tell them not to.

Blaise glanced toward Edelgard, drawing the girl's pulse around her instead of fighting it back. She immediately felt better, a tension in her body she hadn't realized was there easing. The tightness in her chest loosened and she breathed easier. On a whim, Blaise pulled it closer still until she felt the heat beneath her skin and her pulse fall in sync with Edelgard's.

And that was when Edelgard halted.

Blaise thought her heart skipped a beat as lavender eyes scrutinized her. Could she… feel it?

"What are you doing?" Edelgard asked, her head tilting as she half-turned to face Blaise with such a guarded posture it reminded the mercenary of a battle stance.

It caught her a bit off guard and she yanked her notepad and quill from her cloak, wasting no time in writing out her question. _Can you feel it?_

Tentatively, Blaise pulled again, allowing it to flow from the air around and through her.

There was something in the way Edelgard suddenly moved that answered her question for her. She definitely felt that.

Now, what did that mean?

She probably should have waited for Edelgard to actually respond but her excitement must have gotten the best of her. She didn't even know why but Blaise snapped her hand out, palm open and facing the sky. She directed the heat through to her hand where the shape of the Crest of Chevalier formed.

Miraculously, Edelgard didn't turn and run. She didn't even look upset, only curious, and she relaxed. Blaise could practically see the gears turning in her head when Edelgard held her hand before her, the Crest of Seiros dancing in her palm.

Blaise knew Edelgard had the minor Crest of Seiros and yet she was surprised to see it.

Something just… didn't quite match. Like two puzzle pieces that looked like they clicked and almost did.

Then, just as suddenly, the connection was interrupted as Edelgard spun around. "We really should be getting to class…" There was a strange note in her voice, "…We do not want to keep Professor Manuela waiting." Without looking back, she walked off, leaving Blaise to scurry after her.

Blaise wondered if she had crossed some kind of line, noting a renewed tension in Edelgard's shoulders as she followed in her wake. Edelgard made no further attempt to converse so Blaise idly kicked a rock or two in her path until they had stopped outside a door Blaise supposed was the classroom.

Despite Edelgard's expectations, Professor Manuela was not in the classroom when she led Blaise inside. There **were** five students present, excluding Edelgard, one student sitting off in the corner while the other four stood nearby having some sort of discussion. Blaise ignored them for a moment in favor of her surroundings.

The room itself wasn't anything spectacular. Just dark stone walls with a number of desks facing a larger desk at the front with a blackboard beside it. There were large windows that let in enough light to be comfortable and the various banners along the walls personalized the room with red.

"Welcome, Edelgard! Our glorious house leader hath arrived this morn…" The greeting came from a tall, orange-haired boy with an enthusiastic smile.

Blaise quickly pegged him as a morning person. Or… maybe he was always like that? She noted the brief flicker of irritation on Edelgard's features.

"…with a guest…" He beamed at Blaise, offering his hand, "Greetings, I am Ferdinand von Aegir."

Blaise glanced at the princess next to her before accepting Ferdinand's hand.

"This is Blaise. Jeralt's daughter. She is joining our class for today," Edelgard explained.

A pretty girl with wavy brown hair leaned down the inch or two it took to look her in the eye. Blaise noticed she had vibrant green eyes and had tweaked her uniform to somehow be fashionable. "The mercenary, right? It's nice to finally put a face to your name. Edie won't stop talking about you…" she sent a sly look to Edelgard, who was quickly turning red again. "…She left out how pretty you are though. Probably, didn't want…"

"Dorothea, please," Edelgard interrupted so that the girl fell quiet though not without a self-satisfied smirk.

A boy with light blue hair was suddenly on her other side. "Blaise, yeah? You really fought off that bandit leader?" Blaise barely managed a nod and he let out a low whistle. "That's really something. Are you going to show us some mercenary moves?" he demanded.

He was also not short on enthusiasm.

"Mercenary moves?" a second girl with reddish-purple hair asked. Blaise thought she might be foreign with her olive skin tone and accent. "Are we to be leaving the boundaries again? I was not knowing and am having no supplies."

"Battle tactics is the appropriate term," Ferdinand corrected.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Caspar waved Ferdinand's correction away without looking at him. He did, however, turn toward the lone girl in the back corner. "Come on, Bernadetta. Blaise is going to show us some moves," he invited.

Bernadetta had somehow managed to form a fortress of books to hide behind in the few minutes since Blaise had walked in. The mercenary could barely see the messy purple curls over the topmost book. "I don't want to train!" she squealed.

Edelgard's hand went to her head. "I do not believe she is here to train. Bernadetta, would you please come out from there?"

Bernadetta popped her head up just enough for her eyes to see over. "We're not training?" she repeated.

Blaise shook her head so the girl slowly lifted her head over the tower of books.

"Not training? Man, that stinks," Caspar huffed.

"Come now, Caspar, I'm certain she is busy," Dorothea attempted to comfort him before winking at Blaise. "However, if you ever do find the time, I would just love if you would join me for a cup of tea sometime," she offered.

So apparently tea was a popular pastime...

"If I may be so bold as to ask, why are you joining our class if you are not training us? Professor Manuela is not feeling off today, is she?" Ferdinand queried.

A fair question.

And one she actually had to do more than nod to answer.

Blaise hesitated, her hand searching out her quill and paper within her cloak. She was kind of flattered that they wanted her to show them some fighting techniques but would they change their minds when she was forced to write a response? Would they think she wasn't smart enough? That something was wrong with her?

Biting her lip and carefully avoiding every single pair of eyes, she wrote her explanation quickly in an attempt not to slow the conversation too much and then flipped it around for them. Blaise heard more than saw everyone shift to see.

Blaise had to refrain from tapping her foot to the beat of Edelgard's pulse as silence ticked on.

In the process of mentally preparing for the worst, Blaise was shocked when the topic never came up but, instead, the conversation kept going, dare she say it, normally.

"I am not having understanding. In Brigid, we are not having rules in battle..."

"It's a mock battle, Petra," Dorothea explained. "It's like a large sparring session. Blaise is saying she will be on the field to tell us we have lost if we do not stand down as we should," she continued.

Ferdinand threw his hands in the air while shaking his head. "To think we would disgrace the name of the Black Eagles as to attack a bystander. That is not noble at all," he complained.

Blaise frowned. Was he saying he would never attack someone who wasn't directly fighting? That was dangerous thinking. She had halfway written such down before she paused, wondering if this is what Seteth would consider as giving advice.

Whatever. This could be life or death outside of a mock battle. They could be a civilian but they could also be an ambush or a spy lying in wait. She finished her thought and pushed it to Ferdinand.

Edelgard read it over his shoulder and nodded. "Well said," she agreed. "One should never let their guard down around the battlefield. It is prudent for Blaise to let us know she is the exception to the rule for tomorrow," Edelgard insisted.

"We will not be attacking everyone on the field?" Petra questioned.

Ferdinand scratched his head. "No…"

Petra nodded, her expression serious. "And how are we to be knowing if we have lost? We are not to be using weapons."

Perhaps Seteth should have put more effort into ensuring the students knew the rules... It seemed to Blaise they only had the bare minimum of what was going on. Her guess was further enforced when no one answered Petra's question.

Instead, Caspar changed the subject. "So what if you can't show us some moves today. You'll come back another day, right?" he demanded eagerly.

"Caspar..." Dorothea reprimanded.

"What? The Golden Deer have a mercenary. We should get one too." The boy spun toward Edelgard. "You think so too, don't you, Edelgard?"

The princess didn't answer immediately but considered Blaise for a moment. "While I would welcome the chance to learn more from Blaise, unlike Balen, the Archbishop did not choose her as a professor or trainer despite her talents. I believe Dorothea is right, Rhea will no doubt keep her busy elsewhere," Edelgard guessed before she shrugged. "That's not to say you would not be welcome should you choose to come by anyway," she added.

Blaise crossed her arms despite her heart suddenly soaring at the acceptance. She was now thoroughly confused. How could they want her to come back to train with them when all the other students thought she couldn't even function on her own? Had Edelgard told them to act as if they liked her? Was Edelgard just pretending?

She didn't like that thought but then... well, the odds did seem against her.

The girl in question frowned and rested her chin on her hand. If Blaise had overstepped a few minutes prior, Edelgard seemed to have forgiven her. "You… look as if you have no idea what's going on," she admitted.

**_I do not._**

Blaise had raised her hand and signed the short statement without a second thought. She caught herself as she completed it, her hand freezing in the air.

With a silent sigh, Blaise copied the thought down on the paper continuing on to add a, _you want me to come back sometime?_

"Well, of course! Your knowledge and skill would be invaluable to the Black Eagles," Ferdinand exclaimed before Blaise had even spun the paper around.

Dorothea scoffed, glaring at the boy beside her. "She's a person, Ferdinand. Not an object."

Ferdinand ducked, running a hand through his hair and seeming appropriately abashed. "That was not at all... I did not mean to imply..."

Blaise didn't take offense. She hardly cared for the reasoning behind anyone wanting her presence. If they wanted to train, she would drag them to the training grounds right this second. Screw Seteth and his rules.

Or they could train here. Close and lock the door. No one would even know.

She was finalizing said details when Edelgard suddenly laughed. Blaise tilted her head and found everyone, Bernadetta included, staring at her. Surprisingly, it wasn't uncomfortable but she did wonder if she had missed something.

They must have understood her confusion as Dorothea explained, "You were staring at the door so hard, we were wondering if we had scared you off, but then Edie seems to believe you were planning something."

Ahh… she was that obvious, huh?

A flush was creeping across her cheeks but she was saved from having to respond when Hubert stalked in, dragging a green-haired boy behind him. That must have been Linhardt. Then, behind the two of them, came the woman Blaise had briefly seen the few days prior when Balen accepted his teaching position.

Professor Manuela stumbled in, a tad worse for wear this morning. She was still very pretty and her clothing just as questionable as the day they met but you could tell she was lost in thought. Maybe Ferdinand was right to ask if the professor was feeling off.

"I just don't understand why this keeps happening to me," the professor lamented as she practically crashed onto her desk at the front of the room. "I meet a dashing young man, we have a wonderful dinner, and then…" she trailed off with a groan.

Blaise was fairly confident she knew how that sentence finished but Caspar apparently did not as he exclaimed in a much-too-cheerful voice for the situation, "And then what, Professor?"

He earned quite a few glares from his classmates but none more notable than the one from Professor Manuela herself.

"Nothing!" she snapped before dissolving into a pitiful state, collapsing across the length of her desk. "Nothing," Manuela repeated softly.

Dorothea shot across the room and took the Professor's hand, patting it gently in a soothing fashion. "Now, Manuela, don't be like that. There are other men out there who will see you as the light you truly are," she promised.

Blaise placed her hands on her hips. Were the students supposed to be comforting the professor? She had never attended classes but that struck her as counterproductive.

As if to add to the entire bizarre situation, Ferdinand carried over a … cup of tea? Where did he even get that from? No one else seemed remotely surprised. Did they all know this was going to happen?

"A cup of tea, Professor Manuela? It is a special blend I believe you will find quite invigorating," Ferdinand offered.

Professor Manuela brightened, accepting the cup with a smile. "Oh, if I don't have the most precious students in the Academy. That was very thoughtful, Ferdie," she gratified, the orange-haired lad blushing.

Edelgard cleared her throat. "Professor, we have a guest today," she announced.

There might have been a slight edge to her voice, a "hint hint, get your act together, Manuela," but Blaise was too busy silently cursing as the professor suddenly noticed her.

"I see. Blaise, isn't it? I do so adore having guests in my class." Setting her tea carefully to the side, Manuela learned forward, "Tell me, do I look old to you? Has the curse of mankind begun to plague me?" Manuela asked.

Blaise thought the question might be a joke, but the professor seemed oddly serious as she stared. So Blaise glanced toward Edelgard for some help but the silver-haired princess had dropped behind a desk, her head in her hand.

That left her to give the proven age-old correct answer.

**_No. You're gorgeous._**

There wasn't an immediate reply as Professor Manuela's hand rose to massage her head. "You will have to forgive me. It has been quite some time since I practiced Sign. Would you be so kind as to slow it down?"

Blaise did so, exaggerating the movement of her fingers as she had done frequently with her father's mercenaries.

Manuela must have understood the second time since she smiled. "Well, if you aren't sweet. You may come to class anytime," she allowed.

Even the professor didn't mind?

Blaise couldn't help but feel thoroughly pleased with herself. Look at her being a successful student!

"Professor!" That was Caspar again. "How do you know what..." he made a crude imitation of Blaise's Sign. She said crude but it really had no resemblance. "... this means?"

"It is called Sign, Caspar," Linhardt berated, "Must you be so loud?" He dropped his head on his desk.

"It is looking like a language we are having in Brigid. We are calling it the Language of the Hunt. It is helping with ... sneaking in hunting groups," Petra stated.

"Stalking or communicating would be a more appropriate term depending on the context, Dear," Professor Manuela corrected gently and Petra nodded and made a notation on the paper in front of her. Manuela once again leaned back on the desk, a faraway look on her features. "I learned Sign back at the Mittlefrank Opera. Naturally, I was performing the part of a beautiful young lady in the big city who crossed paths with a tragically mute but intelligent man. Through the process of learning to communicate by a rare series of gestures, we fell madly in love. Of course, the head of the Opera insisted we learn Sign to add realism. I'm afraid it was well before any of you would be able to remember."

Dorothea leaned forward on the professor's desk. "That sounds like a lovely Opera, Manuela."

"It was. The poor, beautiful young lady was already engaged to another fellow. Their love was torn apart and, through a series of tragic circumstances, the mute gentleman, unable to cry for help, met his end plunging thousands of feet into a canyon with a broken heart..." Silence followed the unexpected twist of the story. Manuela calmly took a sip of her tea as if she hadn't left the entire class speechless.

With the exception of Linhardt's snoring, Ferdinand was the first to break the silence, placing his hand against his heart. "A truly romantic opera at it's finest," he applauded.

Blaise had to do a double-take as if she hadn't heard properly. "Romantic" wasn't exactly the word she would use. "Depressing," maybe but definitely not "romantic."

"Uh… exactly how is that romantic?"

Thank you, Caspar, for having some sense.

Manuela must have seen Blaise's frown as she set her tea down. "Don't worry, Dear, operas are meant to be dramatic. You are far too pretty to have an end of that nature. Don't you agree, Hubie?"

Was she… teasing Hubert now?

Impressive.

Hubert glared, not gracing her with a response, which only made Manuela laugh.

A thump next to Blaise suggested Edelgard had done more than contemplate hitting her head on the desk.

"We are having a myth where the spirit of the moon is professing her love to the sun, falling into the depths of a volcano," Petra admitted.

Again, not romantic, but at least the spirit of the moon wasn't mute.

"That's a horrible story!" Bernadetta squealed from her fortress. She was once again completely hidden from view.

"Professor Manuela, if I may, we are supposed to be having class," Edelgard reminded her.

"Ooh!" Dorothea practically jumped in the air, "Since we have the benefit of having both you and Blaise, Professor, how about we learn some Sign today? Wouldn't that be nice, Edie? We could use it on the battlefield," she suggested, spinning to face Edelgard at the end. Edelgard crossed her arms and opened her mouth only for Dorothea to continue, "And Blaise wouldn't have to keep writing everything down."

Edelgard closed her mouth but still frowned. "We're not going to learn it in one day," she pointed out.

"Baby steps, Edie," Dorothea insisted, another one of those self-satisfied grins on her face likely because Edelgard hadn't exactly said "no" to the suggestion.

"Sign is a romantic language everyone should know. Wouldn't you agree, Blaise?" Manuela prompted.

If by romantic she meant isolating and, overall, a pain then, yes, it was quite romantic.

Blaise nodded anyway.

"Then it's settled. Come on, Kids, gather around. One big circle," Professor Manuela prompted.

And to Blaise's shock, everyone did. Only Linhardt complained and it was because he'd been woken up so she didn't count that. Even Bernadetta shuffled out from her fortress to sit between Blaise and Dorothea.

Did they really want to learn Sign? And on the eve of some competitive battle?

Blaise looked at Manuela. **_Really?_**

Manuela smiled and nodded before addressing her students. "Blaise needs some encouragement. She just asked '**Really**?'" The professor Signed the word as she said it. "I don't think she thinks we're serious." She looked at each of the students expectantly.

It was Edelgard who attempted the first response of Signing and speech at the same time. She turned beside Blaise to face her. "Really."

Her fingers were sloppy and she, technically, copied Manuela exactly and gestured "Really?" instead of "Really." but Blaise understood what she meant.

She couldn't quite hide her amusement, however, at the slip-up.

Edelgard turned a shade of red at Blaise's expression. "Was that incorrect?" she demanded with an almost frantic look between Blaise and Manuela.

Perfectionistic tendencies. Interesting.

"The hook motion is a segue at the end and indicates a question. You asked 'really?' back. What you want to do for a statement is to stop immediately following the word. In this case, Really..." Manuela nodded to Blaise who repeated the motion bar the question.

And the students mirrored her.

Edelgard got it correct the second time, Petra's was surprisingly clean, Bernadetta watched transfixed, Ferdinand wasn't half bad at reproducing, Hubert was quick though she couldn't tell if he was bored with the entire affair or was always in a haste to complete whatever task was before him, Dorothea took some liberties but was enjoying herself, Linhardt didn't fall asleep, and Caspar's looked… nothing like it should.

Most everyone at least had the question part down while Edelgard took it a step further, making the simple motion at the end of any spoken question as if she wanted to make it second nature.

Unless any of them were prodigies in battle, Balen was going to wipe the floor during the mock battle, but Blaise made a silent vow tomorrow was the only time he would have it that easy.

She stayed with the Black Eagles until one of the other referees for the mock battle kicked her out insisting she needed to see the other houses. It was with some reluctance that she agreed and Signed her farewells. The Black Eagles as a whole even seemed to be put out that she had to leave and that was as welcoming a feeling as it had been unexpected when she first walked in the room.

There was a renewed skip to her step as she made her way next door to the Blue Lions. It was there, her hand on the door, that the Black Eagles were pushed to the back of her mind as she heard the most unexpected melody.

That melody from her dream.

Chevalier's melody, nothing more than a whisper on the breeze.

Blaise spun, pinching her arm as she did so even though she knew she was awake. She'd forgotten or maybe she'd decided it couldn't be more than a dream. How could it?

Yet, she was awake now.

Chevalier's words, fallen into the depths of her mind, were suddenly brought to the forefront.

"Come find me, Névé…"

But… how do you find someone or someplace you've only seen in a dream?

_A/N: Happy slightly early New Year!_


	6. Chapter 5

The mock battle went… actually worse than Blaise expected.

Predictably, the Black Eagles struggled. Professor Manuela chose an interesting group consisting of Edelgard, Hubert, Ferdinand, and Caspar alongside herself. Blaise had no doubt Manuela had asked and chosen the most enthusiastic of her students.

It showed.

The Black Eagles, by Manuela's example, charged straight into the battle, a tactic Blaise certainly wouldn't have attempted against the Blue Lions who were known for spending an excessive amount of time in the Training Grounds.

Never in a million years would she have tried that against Balen.

Caspar, waving his axe haphazardly in the air and yelling a war cry, was taken out in minutes by the Blue Lions archer.

Come on, Caspar. If you're going to charge an archer, at least run zigzag.

The quick loss of one of their teammates at least slowed the Black Eagles down and Ferdinand lasted another ten minutes before being struck by some magic spell from the Golden Deer side of the forest. He did at least manage to take that archer down beforehand.

Balen was using one of Claude's suggestions and so his team remained in the forest while the Black Eagles and Blue Lions fought it out.

A well-placed spell from Hubert forced Dimitri to part from his retainer so Edelgard could engage the prince one-on-one. Meanwhile, Hubert and Manuela doubled up their magic against Dimitri's retainer, taking him down before he could interfere against Edelgard. It was a decent enough plan for the prince and his guardian.

Not so much when it came to the remaining Blue Lion student.

Their lack of foresight cost them Manuela as the young blonde student Blaise had thought was a mage or healer whipped out a bow and struck the professor with a well-aimed practice arrow to the heart.

Edelgard, having forced Dimitri to yield, was already on the Blue Lion girl but simply a few seconds too slow to keep her professor in the game.

So that left Edelgard and Hubert.

The Blue Lions Professor was still somewhere on the battlefield though interestingly not with his students and, of course, the entirety of the Golden Deer remained.

As it was, the two Black Eagles students actually held together fairly well, all things considered. Blaise supposed the two having been friends so long had to do with it. It was just a pity they were now so clearly at a disadvantage.

Spells and arrows rained upon them from the Golden Deer the second Edelgard had taken down the Blue Lion archer. Hubert managed to block them, impressing Blaise with his uncanny control of his magic. Something not found in a novice.

Furthermore, she had no doubt it was Hubert's idea to retreat into the protection of their side of the forest and wait for the Golden Deer to come to them. Edelgard was far too direct for such tactics but it seemed she respected him enough to admit they needed whatever advantage they could get.

Blaise silently applauded that.

The battle dragged on uneventfully for a while as Blaise trailed after the two Black Eagles. It was with great caution they creeped through the trees in the hopes of picking off the Golden Deer.

It only barely worked as they eventually came across the youngest student Blaise had met yet. Lysithea, according to Balen, was said to be a prodigy when it came to magic, but she was a step or two too far from any of her classmates.

Much as she and Edelgard had done when fighting the bandits, Edelgard ambushed the other girl, leaping from the brush and forcing her to stand down with a single swipe of the practice axe.

But it got Balen's attention.

To be fair, Hubert and Edelgard expected as much. They were trying to draw him in the hopes of overwhelming him together.

It didn't mean they were prepared though.

Because, while Balen could be considered emotionally stunted, he had always been very protective and ambushing his youngest student and one of his mages... was a very bad idea.

Hubert was a powerful mage but Balen didn't even miss a step at the spell the Black Eagle cast at him. It was a nuisance spell, harmless for the sake of the mock battle but meant to be off-putting. Yet, if it couldn't give Balen pause, there was just no way Blaise could call it as fatal. And, so, Hubert took a blow that gave Edelgard the second she needed to get her axe up.

Blaise actually winced at the sound as the two pretend weapons clashed. Having been on the receiving end of Balen's weapon more than anyone else, she knew he hit hard. It was a testament to Edelgard that she remained standing. It was downright amazing she blocked a second swing even if Blaise suspected it was completely by accident.

The third swing was a downward cut on Edelgard's left shoulder.

Fatal.

And, so, the Black Eagles were the first team to be defeated.

Edelgard grimaced though whether from pain or her defeat Blaise didn't know.

What Blaise did know was that Balen wasn't stopping. Much like her prior to Seteth's lecturing, Balen was thinking like a mercenary. If they were standing, they could fight.

Blaise leapt forward from her position several feet away.

The problem was Edelgard wasn't a mercenary and believed the battle over according to the rules she had been given. It clearly caught her by surprise when Balen's practice sword hit her in the gut, no doubt knocking the wind from her lungs as she fell flat on her back on the forest floor.

If Hubert had any magic left, he would be trying to fry Balen where he stood, mock battle or no. As it was, he scrambled to get between the mercenary and the princess.

Blaise got there first, her very real sword catching Balen's practice one. On instinct, Balen fought back with an uppercut and then a series of jabs. The sad thing was, Blaise could tell he was holding back which, coupled with the fact she had a real sword instead of the silly wooden one, made it relatively easy to disarm him. For good measure, she shoved him back a step and Balen blinked at her.

**_She's out._**

Blaise watched as Balen's gaze flickered to Lysithea and then Edelgard, his sword hand clenching ever-so-slightly. She heard the scramble behind her that was Edelgard finding her footing or maybe Hubert pulling her to her feet. They were right to be a little worried.

Balen didn't exactly understand the concept.

Blaise tried to Sign again while never lowering her sword arm. **_This fight's over. You won. _**

For a moment, Blaise thought he might argue with her but then he conceded with another step back, turning to check on his mage right about the time Claude burst through the underbrush. "Teach! We've found Professor Hanneman. Let's end this. We have a feast to attend!" Claude was too cheerful, his smile too wide, as he threw an arm around Balen and Lysithea and led them away.

His eyes looked back at her as he slipped out of sight.

Up to something. She'd come to find it was normal of him and so shrugged it off.

With them gone, Blaise sheathed her sword and glanced over her shoulder. Hubert and Edelgard, both on their feet once again, were whispering... or Hubert was whispering, looking utterly furious, to which Edelgard responded with the slightest shake of her head.

"I am unharmed," Edelgard insisted loud enough for Blaise to hear. Hubert clenched his jaw but stayed silent. The Imperial Princess rolled her bruising shoulder before bending down for her practice axe. "At least it was not Dimitri or Claude. They would be insufferable..."

Blaise wasn't sure Hubert agreed, the man now glaring at the spot where Balen and his two students disappeared. Unease prickled across her skin. She was certain Balen hadn't fully understood the mechanics of the mock battle. Mentally, she cursed herself because she had learned with the Black Eagles that the students weren't well-informed so why would Balen be? He was just doing what he knew to do with what information he had been given.

Blaise had always been the one to tell him when to stop or that he was being too hard on someone.

It struck her there was still one more battle... What if he got too enthusiastic again?

Blaise took off at a run to catch up. Just in case. She was only vaguely aware that Edelgard called after her.

Later she would feel kind of silly.

It wasn't her job to rein in Balen. Not anymore. She supposed old habits die hard.

In the end, there was very little need for her to run after the Golden Deer. Balen wasn't needed to take on Professor Hanneman and, thus, Blaise had no need to interfere a second time. She also wasn't exactly needed for the victory celebration that followed.

Because Claude did throw a victory feast which turned into one ridiculous party for everyone.

And Blaise stayed far far away.

She found the monastery grounds were quite peaceful in the dark when every person on the grounds was packed into the Dining Hall.

Meandering, she eventually found her way to the greenhouse located against the Southern wall. She walked inside to a sharp floral smell and blinked against the light of many torches before settling near the first set of flowers she came across. Blaise noticed some of the flower beds were marked with a name while the one before her simply read "General."

Leaning forward, she stroked the leaves of a vibrant purple flower, allowing some of her stress to melt from her shoulders.

Blaise had always adored flowers.

As a mercenary, she'd never had many possessions. She had her sword, the clothes on her back, a small carry bag filled with another set of clothes, basic necessities, and a thin blanket. It meant her room, however temporary, was dreary. At some point, she'd grown tired of it and began to pick flowers along the paths they traveled just to have something to brighten her room... not to mention, break up the monotony of a march. Sometimes she would wear them in her hair like the accessories she had seen other girls' in a village wear. It wasn't often she got to be like them.

Scanning the bed of flowers, there were many colors of the same variety. This one was a rich, royal purple but there were varying shades of blue, yellow, reds, pinks, lighter purples… many were lighter in the middle but darker along the edges of the petals.

Blaise used a finger to smudge some dirt off the sign which she supposed had the name of the flower. The full name was long and complicated, but the short name identified them as iris flowers.

"I wondered how long it would take you to find this place..."

Blaise jumped at the unexpected voice and twisted around to see her father traversing the many flower boxes to reach her.

"You have never been one for celebration. I saw you sneak away," he explained to her silent question of how in Fodlan's name did he find her. When he finally stood beside her, Jeralt reached out and, with surprising care, plucked the dark purple flower from the soil before handing it to her. "Unless there's a name, anything grown in the greenhouse is open for anyone to take," he assured her.

Blaise frowned, twirling the flower's stem between her fingers. **_How do they keep anything grown?_**

"There are many gardeners, more even than I remember," Jeralt sighed, his hand rubbing his chin as he scanned the building. "They do ask if you take something regularly to contribute. Planting your own or contributing the seeds, that kind of thing," he admitted. He seemed to find whatever he was looking for as he walked off farther into the greenhouse, waving for her to follow.

She did so, cradling her flower as she trailed after him.

He stopped next to another box, this one empty except for soil. It took Blaise a moment to understand as her father used his knife to carve something into a slice of wood which he then set into the soil.

Her name.

He was making her own box.

**_I don't know how to grow flowers._**

She'd only ever picked them before.

"Don't worry about that, Kid. The gardeners are great help and your old man's not so bad himself." Her father proceeded to wander around the greenhouse with Blaise following out of sheer curiosity. She watched as he gathered a few supplies: a hand shovel, watering can, gardening gloves of which he threw a pair to her. Then he stopped before a series of containers labeled "Flowers" and "Produce." "If you ever want to try your hand at cooking, you can grow your own produce but, for now, we will stick with the flowers. Go ahead and grab a mixed handful."

Blaise hesitated, staring at the container. **_Are you sure I can just take them? _**

Didn't you usually have to buy this stuff?

"It's fine. Promise."

Nodding only slightly, Blaise took his word for it and grabbed a handful of random seeds from the flower container.

"You can grow both produce and flowers in the same box, but their care is different. You'll have better yields if you do one or the other," her father explained as they returned to her newly acquired box and began digging shallow holes.

Blaise followed behind, dropping seeds inside and covering them as her father instructed. They were quiet for a few minutes, both of them focusing until her father finished digging holes.

"Are you adjusting, being here at the monastery?" he asked.

Blaise was surprised by the question, her fingers slipping so she accidentally dropped several seeds in the same hole. She looked up at him, but he was already reaching around to grab the extra seeds she had dropped. She could tell he was watching her, though, out of the corner of his eyes so she shook her head.

She did not feel at all adjusted.

"I'm not surprised. As a mercenary, I handled everything..."

Except it wasn't even that. Blaise was certain she could handle things if people would let her instead of assuming she was incompetent. And, you know, if she actually had a reliable purpose…

"I admit, I was worried about your brother more but he's in good spirits, and, I wonder if I should have been more concerned for you," he whispered.

Blaise felt her heart sinking and she went back to covering seeds with meticulous care.

That was just great. Not only was she stumbling around trying to figure out what she should be doing but she was disappointing him as well.

**_I'm fine._**

Because she was fine. Maybe not great but fine. Right?

"Rhea has appointed me an apprentice..."

Blaise froze, her hand having halfway filled in a hole. She carefully blanked out her expression before glancing up where she knew her father was watching her. **_An apprentice?_**

"Leonie. You probably saw her with me at the mock battle. She is one of Balen's students..."

She did recall an athletic girl with short orange hair hanging around her father. Suddenly, Blaise rather disliked the girl.

"... I helped out her village once before you and Balen came along on jobs. Apparently, I've been a bit of an inspiration for her. She requested to be made my apprentice. I agreed. Having another girl your age around might make it easier for you."

Blaise only stared, trying desperately to rein in her frustration. He was trying to help her, after all. But… Having to fight another girl for her father's attention was not what she would call helping. He had said she was going to work with him and Rhea had... more or less agreed. Now there was another girl? It felt more like replacing her before she'd even gotten started.

**_That sounds nice._**

Not.

**_Did Rhea say what we would be doing next?_**

"Yes. You and Balen are going to be handling those bandits that got away," he answered.

Blaise perked up. **_I'm working with Balen?_**

No sooner had she finished the gestures than she knew that was not happening. Her father's face drew tight and he shook his head. "Sorry, Kid. You're tasked with tracking them down while Balen and his students will fight them. Of course, you will both have the full support of the Knights of Seiros. Unfortunately, Rhea will not allow my support, but Alois will be among those accompanying you," Jeralt explained.

Alois. Well, at least he'd been friendly.

And she would get to leave the monastery. Frankly, that seemed like a vacation in and of itself.

She looked back down at the purple flower she held in her free hand.

Blaise would just have to learn to make do with what she could get.

"You'll want to water these. You can fill the watering can at the spigot by the entrance," Jeralt stated and Blaise wondered if he was changing the subject on purpose.

Whatever.

She stroked the leaves of her iris flower again.

She was fine.

Really.

~FE~

That was how Blaise found herself thrown into a small battalion of knights aside Alois only a couple of days later. Bar the excitable Alois, she had no idea who any of them were and none of them had any knowledge of Sign. She may as well have been Signing to a rock.

So, Blaise stood apart, her arms crossed and clicking her tongue with impatience as they moseyed around, contemplating whether she could have found the bandits on her own by now.

The answer was yes. Perhaps even multiple times.

Still, the atmosphere was similar to what she was used to.

The knights laughed and joked much like their mercenaries had and there was the occasional scuffle with a wild animal. Most importantly though, Blaise was moving around outside civilization through forests and down mountains.

It was a pity she couldn't enjoy it.

What with her skin itching incessantly and her pulse pounding until her head ached.

There was no Jeralt, no Balen, no Edelgard to soothe what felt like the fraying edges of her sanity.

They made it to Remire Village quickly enough and gathered some hearsay that the bandits had not been spotted since that night they attacked the students.

Blaise felt her heart sink because that meant it wasn't going to be easy. The trail was over a week old by now.

Somehow Alois remained quite cheerful, walking along next to Blaise more often than not, rambling about whatever he felt like. That was fine by her. It was distracting and he talked so much, Blaise could almost forget she couldn't.

She learned he had a wife and a daughter. His daughter, in his words, took as much after his wife as Blaise had her mother.

Which got her thinking...

Did Alois know her mother?

Because he shouldn't. She and Balen were born after her father had left the Knights of Seiros and she was certain Alois had said at some point that he'd not seen Jeralt in the twenty years since her father had left.

By the time she'd thought of asking, he had already changed topics, pulling from his pocket an ancient coin. It was worn and dirty, but he spoke as if it was a diamond, speculating its history until it was far-fetched enough to have come from aliens.

It made her smile and he was so elated he gave her the coin.

"I like to think of us as siblings, you, your brother, and I. I was an orphan, you know, before Jeralt came across me. He appointed me as his squire just like that." Alois snapped his fingers. Blaise tilted her head. She hadn't known that, but she did kind of like the thought. "So, if you ever need anything, you just come find me and I'll set it straight!"

For some reason, she believed him.

They found no evidence of the bandits at the old fort outside of Remire village either so they set up camp for the third night.

Blaise ate little and slept even less, tossing and turning until she'd given up on sleep and, instead, played with the old coin in her bedroll until the horizon began to lighten with dawn.

They visited a number of other villages scattered about to no avail.

She soon found herself forgoing her tent completely, remaining awake to sit by the fire and watch the flames dance while flipping her coin for hours on end. Alois began to join her by the fire, teaching her some old card game. She suspected he'd made it up because it made very little sense, but she didn't care.

It also passed time.

"It's astounding! A week and you're already an expert," Alois exclaimed one night as Blaise beat him three rounds in a row.

She grinned at him. She knew he was flattering her, but it was still nice.

A twig snapped behind Alois and the knight leapt to his feet faster than Blaise would expect from someone in such heavy armor. He brandished his axe with wide eyes. "Who's there?" he demanded. "Show yourself!"

Blaise raised an eyebrow at the theatrics. It was only Dar, the knight currently on watch duty. She could see him from here.

"Peace, Alois. It is only I," Dar's words carried to them, his tone conveying frustration.

"Dar. You should not sneak around in such a way. I thought you a ghost!"

There was something amusing about seeing a grown man and professional knight shudder at the thought of ghosts.

"Not yet" was Dar's drawling response.

"Not yet?!" Alois repeated, his expression somehow growing more horrified. "My dear fellow, you are not... planning to haunt in the afterlife?"

Blaise shook her head, practically hearing Alois' haunt "me" that remained unsaid. She tuned them out, instead turning her attention to picking up the cards that lay scattered about.

A flicker of silver from the forest caught her eye. It didn't concern her. Every knight in their battalion wore silver and it wasn't uncommon for any one of them to wander at times. Out of sheer curiosity though, Blaise did look up.

And promptly blinked at the unexpected sight.

She shook her head and blinked again.

Still there.

Chevalier stood at the edge of the encampment, leaning against the trunk of a large tree. As Blaise noticed her, she smiled, straightening and walking away into the forest.

Blaise tripped over the log she had been sitting on, only barely registering Alois and Dar's question of whether she was okay. She wasn't quite sure how to answer anyways. It was pretty clear Resonance had finally become too much for her and she'd lost her mind. Still, she grabbed the belt of her sword which lay on the ground beside her and scrambled after her green-haired dream woman.

Chevalier somehow stayed ahead despite Blaise running with reckless abandon while the woman remained at a steady walk. Chevalier did look over her shoulder once or twice, the silver accessories adorning her hair reflecting the light of the moon with each shift.

This was one of those moments she wished more than anything to be able to speak. To call out or shout.

And then, Chevalier was gone.

Blaise slid to a halt, her heart pounding in her chest until she thought it might just burst.

Chevalier couldn't disappear. She had to be here somewhere.

She spun a circle, searching for a flash of silver.

Nothing.

Again.

Still nothing.

So, Blaise ran forward to the exact spot Chevalier had been before having disappeared. She had run to the edge of the forest, the trees now sparse around her. Only steps ahead was a drop-off into a canyon below but Blaise wasn't looking down. She was looking up at the stars or, more specifically, a particular star.

The Blue Sea Star.

Which didn't make sense at all because the Blue Sea Star can't be seen in Fodlan until the Blue Sea Moon. That was roughly two months from now.

Yet there was no denying what she was seeing.

Blaise pinched her arm, just in case. It still hurt and she was still seeing the star.

Tearing her gaze from above, she scanned below. White stone and a bridge in the distance.

She'd… found it? The fallen city?

A sound similar to stampeding animals came up behind her and she spun to see the Knights of Seiros, weapons drawn and led by Alois, rush in behind her.

"Blaise!" Alois was panting from exertion, but it did not disguise the relief in his voice. "What did you see? What happened?" he demanded.

"Alois! The bandits are below. In the canyon."

Blaise jerked back around and, sure enough, deep in a portion of the canyon she had missed were a number of campfires. The occasional moving figure interrupted the glow of the fire.

Was this why Chevalier needed her help? Were the bandits... hurting her, imprisoning her?

There were no crest-bearers around to fuel her pulse, but Blaise felt her blood boil nevertheless.

"They have taken up refuge in Zanado. We must inform the Archbishop at once!"

Inform the Archbishop? Not a chance.

She was going down right now. Blaise had her sword drawn and was preparing to slide down into the canyon when she was grabbed by the back of her cloak.

Alois was dragging her back!

She struggled but she was off-balance and awkwardly holding her sword in one hand and its sheath in the other. Alois didn't release her until she was well into the forest. "Remember, our mission was to locate the bandits. Balen will need to deal with them."

Balen!

She would tell Alois he was a genius if she could.

It would be pretty stupid to take on an unknown number of bandits on her own but Balen was certain to help her.

Reaching out her pulse, she found him with practiced ease. Ignoring the calls of her companions, she bolted off into the night, allowing the familiar beat to pull her along the unknown path back to Garreg Mach Monastery.

~FE~

It was still dark when Blaise tore through the grounds of Garreg Mach and slid to a stop in front of Balen's room among the first-floor dormitories. She pounded her fist against the door for several minutes until her brother opened it. She slipped beneath his outstretched arm and swept over to the dark lantern, lighting it with a short burst of fire.

She knew she probably looked like a complete and utter disaster. She had been gone for upwards of a couple of weeks which meant minimal self-care and, while Zanado was not far from Garreg Mach, she had also charged straight through brush and everything else in her way to get here as quickly as she had. Instinctively, Blaise ran a hand through her hair, capturing a twig or two which found their way onto Balen's floor.

Good thing it was just Balen here.

**_I found the bandits. They're in a canyon called Zanado and it's not very far. We need to deal with them._**

Balen stared at her with his usual blank expression. "My students won't be ready for another week," he stated.

Blaise shook her head. **_We don't need them. You and I, they won't stand a chance._**

Balen didn't answer which wasn't unusual but he also didn't move to get his weapon.

That was weird. He was always prompt to follow Blaise.

"My mission is for my students and I to fight the bandits. Not you and me."

**_I know but Chevalier is down there. I need to get to her now._**

"Chevalier?" he repeated.

Blaise nodded emphatically. **_Yes. _**She practically ran across the room to grab her brother's sword, handing it to him. **_Come on._**

Balen glanced down at the weapon, furthering Blaise's confusion when he didn't accept it. Instead, he reached out and pushed the offered weapon downward. "A week isn't that long…"

Blaise almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. Balen was… telling her no?

Maybe he just didn't understand. She wasn't explaining it right.

**_Chevalier told me she needed my help and she's down there. Zanado is the fallen city I keep dreaming about._**

Come on, Balen. If it was his dream, she'd not think twice about helping him.

"I can't leave my students."

**_Zanado is close. We can be there and back before anyone even notices. I just need help with the bandits. Once they're gone, you can come back while I find Chevalier._**

He was quiet again, but this time Blaise felt restless.

It struck her then he wasn't going to help her.

**_Balen._**

Her brother raised his hand for the first time in the conversation. That was also different. Sign had been his go-to before…

**_It's only a week, Blaise._**

She stared at him, her brain processing his response at an overwhelmingly slow rate. Finally, she clicked her tongue, dropping Balen's sword on the floor with a clatter. **_I'm not waiting a week. I'm going with or without you._** Blaise spun on her heel, shutting Balen's door behind her. She detoured to her own room on the second floor to sleep until dawn. If she was going to do it by herself, she needed to be well-rested.

And, frankly, she kind of thought he would change his mind if she just waited a few hours.

Strike that.

She really thought he would.

Perhaps that was why she'd stuck around longer than she had needed the next morning.

But he didn't.

And her delay almost cost her the ability to return at all.

She was in a lot of trouble for running out on her companions who had searched frantically through the night for her only to stumble into the monastery early in the morning to find she was on the grounds already. Alois was so relieved he nearly crushed every bone in her body, but he was the only one with such a reaction.

By and large the emotion Blaise gathered was disappointment.

It was made ever worse by the fact Alois actually vouched in her defense, saying she was the one who located the bandits and he had told her Balen had to deal with them.

And, to be fair, she had told Balen about the bandits being found.

It just wasn't... exactly selfless as Alois assumed it had been.

Manuela, bless her, had been passing by during the interrogation and, also, attempted to help her out by stating Blaise was a mercenary and not a knight. They couldn't expect her to suddenly know how she was meant to behave in such a new dynamic.

Her father, most notably, didn't say a word.

That was a million times worse than Seteth's vehement complaints.

Blaise suspected Rhea was aware there was something more to the story as well, but Blaise gave nothing away, her eyes on the floor as the adulter adults chimed in their two cents until she was given a warning and sent away.

There was absolutely no way she was going to bring up Chevalier. Besides being a pain to Sign so much, everyone would think she was more insane than they already did. It would have been smarter to go back to her room and stay there but, as it was, it simply wasn't an option she was willing to consider.

She grabbed her travel bag from her room and slipped out before anyone could stop her.

None of this was anything new to her.

Blaise had always been impulsive, reacting instinctually to any given situation. It was part of what made her such a good mercenary.

And she was a good mercenary, no matter how anyone at the monastery felt about her.

She could admit, however, she'd always had Balen at her shoulder for moral support if nothing else and it was a bit lonely now. Glancing over her shoulder, there was nothing but empty space. It had been like this for almost a month. Shouldn't she be used to it by now?

Whatever.

Rhea had it her way.

Blaise was on her own and she was fine.

That may as well be a new catchphrase for her.

Blaise was back on the outskirts of Zanado by noon and she began her trek with scouting out the location and number of bandits in the canyon. It was slow going, not taking the main path which the bandits were no doubt frequenting. She was forced to climb up and down steep cliff faces, drag herself over boulders, shimmy across the tightest spaces, all the while making certain no bandits saw her. It was over an hour later that she collapsed into the shade of a crevice for a well-deserved rest and gulp of water. Wiping sweat from her forehead, Blaise flopped onto her stomach and peeked out from her shelter to gather her bearings.

There were too many bandits for her to handle soo...she needed to get around them. If she could just get inside the building she always found Chevalier in her dreams then she should be okay. It would be unusual for them to be inside some ruined buildings.

Her current observation seemed to suggest the bandits were camping out right on the other side of the bridge and along the outskirts of the fallen city itself.

Were they afraid of the city or something? Maybe it was in worse shape than she thought.

She shrugged the question away. Whatever the reason, it was going to make it easier for her.

The tricky part would be getting to the other side of the bridge without using said bridge. The bandits would see her coming miles out.

Blaise took a few more settling breaths before climbing higher still in search of a better vantage point. Laying flat along the top of a boulder on the highest peak in her vicinity, she scoured the canyon.

She didn't really like what she saw.

The bridge was quite obviously the main way in and out. There was a second smaller bridge to its West and it would get her across the cliff but put her on the wrong side of the bandits. It was possible there would be a way around them once over there but nothing she could count on from this vantage point.

It was looking like her only option.

She could spend all day debating and still not have an answer so to the West it was.

Blaise scrambled her way down, potentially faster than one would consider safe. It was quite satisfying to be back on solid ground, and she moved swiftly down her chosen path. There were a few isolated bandits but nothing she couldn't get by with a little ducking into shadows until they had passed.

Once over the bridge, Blaise once again took to the cliffs for the height advantage.

And she was somehow able to get around the encampment and to the roof of the first building in the city. It was surprisingly sturdy despite the years of weathering and Blaise slid down for a rest. She had just let out a relieved sigh, congratulating herself at slipping unnoticed through a hoard of bandits, when there was a flash of unnaturally bright light not fifty yards across the roof from her.

Blaise recognized it immediately as a warp spell.

In the not–too-far-distance, she heard an uproar.

Damn, how did some stupid bandits notice her now? Or even know how to warp? They weren't exactly known for their magic affinity.

She rolled, unsheathing her sword as she did so, already in her fighting stance when the light faded.

Her first, albeit very stupid thought, was whether she should jump off the roof and make a run for it.

Her second and arguably just as stupid thought was how and why did Edelgard warp onto the roof beside her though, in her defense, the pulse felt the same.

Except whoever it was, was clearly not Edelgard nor a bandit. For one, Edelgard was back in the monastery and, Blaise was fairly certain, didn't know how to warp. The… person was taller and covered head to toe in black heavy armor, a sweeping red cape, and a red and white mask. They did, however, have a very big axe that Blaise was certain she didn't want to be on the receiving end of on the tight confines of this roof.

They stared at each other or at least Blaise stared and she assumed the warrior was staring back based on the direction the mask was facing.

He was so still that Blaise was beginning to suspect he was just as surprised to see her there.

Which maybe was a good thing? It meant he hadn't technically warped up here to kill her.

Her heart had somehow jumped into her throat as several tense minutes passed, Blaise unmoving with her sword out and the warrior across from her, his axe not drawn but hand resting comfortably on the hilt.

Blaise wondered a second time whether she should take her chances jumping off the roof.

She didn't know how else she could possibly get out of this one. It wasn't like she could explain herself.

And then, miraculously, the warrior let his hand drop from his weapon.

Blaise continued to stare, debating which option was more stupid. Keep her weapon out and potentially antagonize him or sheath her sword, leaving herself open to attack if this was some kind of trap. She settled for an in between, allowing her blade to lower and sort of relaxing her stance but not putting the weapon away.

Goddess… She'd gotten herself into a right mess this time.

She didn't even think she had paper to write on. Not that she would be stupid enough to put her hand in her cloak in case he thought she was searching out a throwing dagger or something.

Think, Blaise, think.

Don't be threatening… but also don't be a pushover. Opponents could sense fear, after all.

Tentatively. Ever, ever so tentatively, Blaise coaxed the warrior's crest power toward, around, and through her until she could hold out her hand with the Crest of Chevalier manifested in her palm. She hoped it would come across as some kind of exercise in trust due to their personal nature. It was made easier by the fact the warrior's crest really did feel as Edelgard's did, making it familiar to manipulate.

Blaise held her position as the seconds ticked on, wishing more than anything the mask wasn't there so she could have some inkling of what the other individual was thinking. Her arm was beginning to shake from a combination of exertion and worry when the warrior finally returned the gesture.

Blaise blinked at the shape of his crest.

She didn't know it.

It was a larger, more complicated looking crest than she had seen thus far.

And she liked it. She liked it a lot.

It hit her like a wave.

Its pulse pulled her, danced around her, beckoned her until she found she'd walked forward and now stood with their crests nearly touching. Interestingly, she wasn't having to do so much pulling theirs toward her as reining hers in. She remembered going too far with Edelgard's and worrying her. She didn't want to do that here but ...were they drawing hers too?

This was barely like what Rhea had done when she had seemingly drawn Blaise's power through her. This was like that but times five.

There was heat and static both between and within. There were heartbeats and not just one but many and she could feel them all, near and at great distances.

Blaise wondered what would happen if she just let go. Would she fall in sync with the one before her or be pulled in every direction? For some reason, the thought didn't scare her as much as she thought it should.

The air was beginning to feel electric between them. Tumultuous and unstable.

Blaise took one more step forward, power racing up and down her arm as the visible shape of her crest began to scatter in favor of the larger crest ...

"Halt!"

Blaise jerked at the shout, using every ounce of self-control she had to force her pulse back to her and away from the warrior. Before she knew it, she had jumped away to the far edge of the roof and doubled over, gasping as if she had forgotten to breathe the entire event.

"Be careful lest you awaken the storm too soon, Névé…"

It wasn't until she heard "Névé" that she realized it wasn't the warrior who had called for her to halt. She doubted he had even heard. Blaise searched the vicinity for Chevalier, once again coming up empty.

What in Fodlan's name was going on? What storm?

Blaise twisted around, her cloak sticking to sweating skin, and she grimaced.

A bath was a long way away.

She saw her sword on the ground halfway between her and the mysterious warrior. She didn't remember dropping it. Her legs felt kind of like jelly as she moved to retrieve it, using the tip of the blade to spell out a simple "Sorry" in the dust of the roof.

An apology seemed fitting.

If the poor soul was anything like her, he was probably nearing a heat stroke within all that armor.

Honestly, she was beginning to worry about him, silent as he was. Finally, though, his stance changed to face her directly. "Why are you here?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow at the warbling robotic voice.

She didn't know what possessed her to be honest. Maybe it was because she didn't know him so what did it matter if he thought her insane? Maybe she was just tired of caring what people thought. Or maybe she just really liked his crest. Regardless, Blaise swept her sword through the dust to spell out "Chevalier."

She skipped down below and added "Help?"

She didn't know what was around here but having a companion would certainly be safer. Blaise looked up into the mask.

It was probably fine. He hadn't killed her yet.

She was rewarded when he crossed his arms. "What is it you have in mind?"

It wasn't a "no."

Blaise grinned, her gaze flickering into the city where she could just see the building she wanted to get to. Balen wouldn't know it but he was definitely going to regret missing out today. Twirling her sword in one hand, Blaise used the other to point in the direction she wanted to go.

The mask followed her point, the warrior straightening and apparently contemplating her limited instructions.

Blaise was hopeful despite her communication woes.

Still, she was surprised when he nodded to her. "Lead the way."

_A/N: _

_Alright, so we have the first important wedge forced between the twins with Balen being too preoccupied being the best professor ever to help Blaise. Then we have Blaise allowing her identity crisis to get the better of her, leading to some potentially questionable decisions. I was also able to allude to the title of the story. I chose Iris more for it's connection to the Goddess of the Rainbow than because of the flower but, due to the gardening aspect of the game and Edelgard's Crimson Flower route, I couldn't resist throwing the flower in for funsies. Chevalier mentions the "storm." _

_And, with that, the plot is **almost** moving!_

_Review and PM but, most importantly, stay tuned for the next chapter._


	7. Chapter 6

Really?

Blaise could hardly believe her fortune as the mysterious warrior in heavy armor agreed to join her. Just like that. She had a quick mental image of Alois snapping his fingers and suddenly understood the sentiment.

Despite his prompt for her to lead the way, she opted for a quick rest, indulging in her canteen of water as she had wanted to do prior to her companion interrupting her.

The warrior remained standing but did sidle over to stand on Blaise's right side when she once again turned to the dust to communicate.

_I didn't warp up here._

Blaise thought that deserved a break.

"No?" There might have been a hint of surprise or maybe curiosity within the strange, robotic voice. "How is it you managed to make it here then?"

Blaise twisted around to point out her general path from the forest above down to the smaller bridge and finally to the cliffs which eventually led her to this point.

Silence followed and, for a moment, Blaise thought maybe he didn't quite understand, but then the warrior crossed his arms and Blaise could almost imagine a disapproving look with the way the mask tilted down upon her. "That appears ridiculously foolhardy," he stated.

She supposed he wasn't wrong but she shrugged with unconcern. _It wasn't my first choice._

"Dare l ask what your first choice was?"

Blaise didn't respond, her brother's rejection still stinging so she hardly wanted to contemplate it. Instead, she shook her head and scattered the dust for her change in topic. _Who are you?_

It was only because she was looking directly at him that she noticed the twitch of his hand around the haft of the axe.

"I am the Flame Emperor."

Flame Emperor?

She raised an eyebrow at the obvious alias but supposed she shouldn't be surprised. The guy was wearing a mask after all. _Pleasure, Flame Emperor._

It was nearly imperceptible but he relaxed furthering Blaise's suspicion that he simply didn't want to be known.

A noble hiding their identity.

Curious.

And she was certain he was a noble. She would bet everything she owned that armor was worth more than she had ever seen in her life. What was the armor even made of? She fought the urge to flick it in order to hear the material chime.

"And you?" the Flame Emperor returned.

Blaise cleared the dust a second time yet paused before responding. She glanced up, studying him. He was using an alias, probably best that she did too. _Névé._

This time the sudden tension was obvious in the jerk of his shoulders and a slight tilt of his head. The eyes behind the mask would be narrowed and it took several moments of silence before he acknowledged her. "That is… an interesting name," he offered.

Blaise found the entire encounter interesting. Intriguing even.

She only smiled and pushed herself back to her feet, gripping her sword by the hilt. She proceeded to the edge of the roof, searching for a way down.

Of course she could climb down but she doubted the Flame Emperor in all his heavy armor felt much like doing the same.

"How familiar are you with the Red Canyon?" the warrior suddenly asked as Blaise considered a window that was an easy swing from the roof. She could break it easily and they would have access to the stairs inside the building.

As it was, Blaise paused at the question.

She didn't know anything about a red canyon.

Her expression must have said as much as the Flame Emperor nodded. "I thought not. Zanado, the Red Canyon, is considered sacred ground to the Church of Seiros. No one is allowed within unless given express approval from the Archbishop," he explained.

Several questions presented themselves at that information. Why was the canyon called the "Red Canyon" when there wasn't anything red around? Why was it considered sacred ground? If no one was allowed, then why were the bandits here? Did they just not know?

Blaise waved her hand toward the bandits since that was the easiest question to ask.

Her companion hummed. "Yes. Their fate was sealed the moment they chose to settle here. It is defensible but no doubt the Church will soon be upon them. The question is, are you planning to be here when they arrive?"

Was that some way of asking if she had permission?

Just imagining Rhea's face at knowing Blaise was trespassing on apparently sacred ground had her snorting with amusement. It would probably just end with her telling Blaise to pack up and leave.

She shook her head for the Flame Emperor's benefit.

Then Blaise, careful to maintain her grip on the edge of the roof, slipped off in front of her chosen window. A twist later and she kicked the glass in and swung inside.

If Blaise thought the Flame Emperor may potentially need help, she was sorely mistaken. It was with surprising speed he swung in behind her, nearly bulldozing her over. She only just managed to dodge out of the way.

Maybe the armor wasn't as heavy as it looked or he was just more agile than most soldiers.

She made a mental note to remember that.

"I take it the Archbishop would not be pleased to see you here," he continued as she regathered herself from the near trample.

Blaise was personally doubting whether Rhea would be pleased to see her at all.

Again, she simply shook her head.

"In which case, if I may be so bold as to offer advice…" the Flame Emperor began, pausing as he waited for Blaise to look to him. She shrugged as she did so in a silent invitation for him to continue. She would never turn down advice regardless of whether she would follow it or not. "... should you ever cross paths with the Church, I would suggest you not use the name Névé."

She tilted her head.

What was wrong with Névé that the Church specifically wouldn't like? The Flame Emperor apparently knew something she didn't which wasn't surprising considering how little exposure to the Church she's had. Perhaps it was past time she put in a little research before her naivety got her into trouble.

But that was a problem for later.

Blaise nodded her gratitude to her companion and turned her attention back to her surroundings.

They were now inside a dark, nondescript room. Whatever had once been here besides the white stone had long since deteriorated. Blaise was, frankly, amazed the window had still been intact prior to her swinging through it.

She led the way through an opening that had likely held a door at some point, her hand trailing the smooth stone support.

Her skin prickled despite the apparent vacancy and Blaise unsheathed her sword as she turned down another dark corridor, scanning for a stairway or any other way down to the ground floor. A soft scrape of metal on metal suggested the Flame Emperor had shifted his axe accordingly.

Blaise stuck her head inside each opening as she passed. It wouldn't do to inadvertently allow hidden enemies to come up behind them and, though she wouldn't admit it, she was curious and hoping one of these rooms would have something that could tell her about what this place had once been.

However, they made it down the stairs and out another opening onto the pathway of the city without seeing anything of interest.

Mostly.

Just as it had been within her dream, the architecture was distinctly unique but that didn't tell her much.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Blaise and her companion walked down the uneven path.

A feeling of unease forced them to move with exaggerated caution, Blaise straining for any sounds or movements in the growing shadows.

There was something here. She was certain of it.

Whatever it was evaded her sight.

"Where exactly is it you want to get to?"

His voice was soft despite the mechanical tone but still made an on-edge Blaise jump. She immediately flushed a bright red which she tried to hide by not looking at him and instead pointing to her destination.

Of course, it was on the opposite end of the city. Potentially even, the very last building.

Blaise could get a good look at it now.

It rose higher than the others, a pointed steeple seeming to touch the sky which was now lighting with stars. Whoever built it had clearly spared no expense. There had once been windows larger than the two of them together, there were archways, statues, a fountain, now dry. Interestingly, and unfortunately, the statues, which may have been educational for Blaise, were the only artifacts made of the white stone to show extensive damage.

It was truly interesting. Whereas the pathway and buildings showed enough damage to be akin to a shattered mirror, the statues had seemingly been obliterated midway and up.

With purpose.

That did tell Blaise one thing. The city had likely been abandoned for violent reasons, not left to deteriorate on its own.

The thought made her sad as she scanned the barren walls around her. She could almost imagine what life could have been like here. That building could have been a store, that one a house, and children could have run down the path playing silly games while their parents bartered at the store. Night would have brought something quieter and peaceful beneath the stars.

Blaise glanced up at the sky.

There was something about the stars here…

So entranced was she, Blaise didn't realize she'd stopped to stare at the twinkling lights.

It wasn't until she was shoved to the ground, the Flame Emperor sweeping in front of her that she became aware of the danger she had been in. Her companion's axe was imbedded in the shoulder of... a wolf? A really really large wolf whose jaws were still snapping at the air inches from Blaise's arm.

Shaking its massive head, it managed to dislodge the axe just as Blaise rolled to her feet, drool or maybe blood splattering against her neck and arms.

Fangs flashed in the faint light and Blaise dove, her sword catching the wolf on one of its front legs and giving the Flame Emperor the second he needed to dodge out of the way of its teeth. Even so, Blaise frowned. Her sword hadn't penetrated as deeply as it should have. She spun, ripping the blade from the wolf's hide and following with a stab near the ribcage in search of the heart.

It was like stabbing into the ground and her weapon was jarred from her hands. Then something hit her and the impact sent her rolling several feet away.

Fighting back a wave of vertigo, Blaise heard the wolf howl and looked up to see glowing red eyes fixated on her. This was definitely not an ordinary wolf. And if that, coupled with the fact her sword was still embedded in its side, wasn't bad enough several answering howls filled the night air. Blaise scrambled back to her feet as the wolf lunged.

Once again, the Flame Emperor's axe gave it pause. "Run!" he ordered, dodging away again as the wolf clawed in his direction only for it to turn back toward Blaise.

Why was it so interested in her?

Shadows and glowing red eyes moved around them.

Running suddenly seemed like a wonderful idea.

She bolted, though not in the direction the warrior probably anticipated. It wasn't like she was going to leave him though.

Blaise ran straight by the first wolf, leaping over outstretched claws and blasting it in the face with a fire spell for good measure. Not daring to pause to see if it even did anything, she grabbed the Flame Emperor's arm and tugged them after her.

At least slipping in the tighter spaces between buildings meant they couldn't be completely surrounded, and they could fight the wolves one on one until they could climb up onto the roof. Not that she wanted it to come to that.

A boulder struck the path before them, forcing Blaise to slide to a halt.

What kind of wolves threw rocks?

Monster wolves, of course.

Cursing to herself, she led her companion down an alley to their left.

"We're going the wrong way. Surely, you are not still planning to get inside that building!"

Blaise couldn't respond if she wanted to and just hoped the Flame Emperor would continue to follow. If going the other way was a safer option, she would do that in a heartbeat, but they were sitting ducks on the rooftops and cliff sides if the wolves could throw boulders. Not to mention there was no way they could outrun the wolves in the open space between the city and the bridge to the forest. It's not like they could count on the bandits to help them out.

In fact, it suddenly made sense why they had camped outside the city.

She didn't know why but that building seemed like their best option.

Blaise continued her path, impulsively and with little regard to tact, reaching her crest out behind her to the Flame Emperor while drawing his forward. What could she say? It made her feel better and maybe it made him feel better too. She didn't want him to leave her now...

She practically chanted such in her head with each step.

Then bad turned to worse.

Blaise could see the building. It was right there before them.

…Separated from them by an expanse of barren ground.

Could they make it? She could see the wolves' silhouettes keeping pace with them along the main path. Did they dare try to make it? The question that followed was, did they dare try their hand in the other direction?

That was an emphatic "no."

So, Blaise didn't even allow herself to break a step as she led the way from their smidge of safety among the alleys. With some relief, the pulsing of his crest told her the Flame Emperor was right behind her. As if to counteract that relief there were a number of howls and they were closer than ever.

She sped up, only breaking her straight shot to the building when the odd earthquake or two suggested the wolves were somehow causing rockslides in her direction.

It was quite sudden and unexpected when she passed the remains of the statues and the air became oppressive. However, it was only for a heartbeat and it was back to normal with only a slight tingling in the air to show for it.

Until his pulse told her the Flame Emperor was much farther behind than he should have been.

Blaise spun around.

What had happened? He had just been right behind her.

Her companion was picking himself up off the ground when Blaise rushed back to help. Had he been knocked off balance by a rockslide?

The wolves were closing in fast and she readied another fire spell, silently telling herself that if she got out of this alive, she was going to become more adept at magic.

"It won't let me through!"

What wouldn't let him through?

Blaise ignored the question in her head, releasing her spell at the feet of the nearest wolf the same time she shoved the Flame Emperor toward the building. She was right on his heels when there was a flash of light between the statues and she saw exactly what he had meant.

There was a barrier of some kind preventing him from getting through.

But she was certain she had been on the other side.

With nothing else for it besides getting eaten by wolves, Blaise grabbed his wrist and dragged him forward. The oppression of the air must have been the magic and it hit her full force, nearly knocking her off her feet. Her head began to pound as she fought against it.

Come on, come on, come on.

For one terrifying moment, Blaise seemed to flail in the midst of the barrier and then she felt something like lightning shoot through her. Seconds later, she found herself flat on her face with the Flame Emperor stumbling past her. She rolled over, preparing to face the wolves only to find she and the Flame Emperor had made it past the statues and the wolves couldn't seem to follow. They paced back and forth, howling and fangs snapping in their direction like very large guard dogs that couldn't get through a fence.

Blaise crawled backwards to put a little more space between herself and the monster wolves before succumbing to the desire to just lay there and stare at the stars.

Her moment of respite was very short, however, as her view was quite suddenly interrupted by the red and white mask of her companion leaning over her. It might have scared her if her brain wasn't as fuzzy as it was.

"Are you harmed?" he demanded.

Harmed? That was nice of him to be worried, but she felt fine. Tired but fine.

She shook her head.

The Flame Emperor kneeled beside her. "What about your arm?"

Her arm?

Blaise frowned and lifted her right arm in front of her for inspection. It looked fine so she moved the other and promptly winced. Oh, yes, that one hurt. It was the one she had been holding onto him with and the length of it was covered in burns. That magical barrier no doubt. It really hadn't wanted to let them through.

Unfortunately, she couldn't tell the severity of the burns in the limited lighting.

It hurt, frankly a lot, but there was no reason to make a big deal about it. She would go see Manuela when she got back to the monastery.

So, Blaise used her good arm to push herself up into a sitting position and then to wave her companion's concern away.

It didn't work the way she expected it to, the warrior hissing his displeasure and digging his fingers into her shoulder to prevent her from standing. "It's going to get infected," he snapped.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. She was certain she'd had worse that had gone untreated for a longer length of time than she expected this one to be. It was just part of being a mercenary. They didn't always have access to white magic, and they needed to be careful with their inventory of vulneraries. However, if it made him feel better, she supposed she could use one until she could get to Manuela. With his hand still holding her in place, Blaise opted to point to her bag which lay on the ground a few feet away.

He stalked over to it, Blaise suddenly aware that he was not happy in the slightest.

Great.

She pretended not to notice, reminding herself he had almost been torn apart by wolves and that was unnerving for even the most experienced warriors.

The bag was tossed to her side and she simply set about applying the sticky, protective paste until she thought no one could possibly be dissatisfied with how thorough a job she had done.

When she had once again regained her feet, she found the Flame Emperor had wandered over to the remains of the statues, observing their active magic. Blaise didn't know how he did so without flinching at the wolves just on the other side. It went against all her instincts to rejoin him. Then again, she knew very little about magic so couldn't find much interest in why the statues were working the way they were. She did notice there were more statues in both directions, forming a perimeter around the building.

They were also half-destroyed.

"Fascinating how you were able to cross unhindered yet I, and the wolves, could not, isn't it?" he mused as she stopped next to him.

Blaise wasn't sure "fascinating" was the right word for what he meant. "Suspicious" seemed more fitting.

It put her on edge.

There was another huff as the mask turned to face her. "If you insist on remaining silent, I suggest you find something to write with. There are questions I would like answers to."

And with that Blaise felt her self-control decline as her anger bubbled. He was the one who agreed to accompany her. It wasn't like it hadn't been obvious on that roof that she wasn't speaking. He was just like everyone else, believing it was some stupid personal choice on her part. Like she just didn't want to.

Damn him.

Served her right she supposed for even thinking otherwise.

Shooting him the nastiest look she could muster, Blaise shoved her hands into her pockets, searching for the writing necessities she knew weren't there. Her bag came next but, upon finding nothing of use, she immediately stalked off toward the building.

She hardly cared but the Flame Emperor followed behind her in silence.

Passing over the threshold, Blaise found herself in an architecturally magnificent entranceway with sweeping grand staircases, sloping arches, bejeweled accents, gold and silver décor that was actually still intact, stained glass though most of the latter had been broken with age. If it wasn't for the broken glass that littered the ground or the lack of lighting, Blaise would almost believe someone was still maintaining the place.

The Flame Emperor hummed, reminding her of his presence. Her mood soured again. "This is the equivalent of a castle," her companion realized. "It is smaller than Enbarr's or Fhirdiad's but no less grandiose. Someone of great importance once lived here."

Blaise glanced at him, mentally noting he had been to both Enbarr and Fhirdiad. That garnered questions but she ignored them and pushed through entranceway without any further acknowledgement.

It was difficult to fathom but she knew exactly where she was and where she wanted to go. Passing the staircases, Blaise, lighting her hand with fire, chose a door in the back and followed a long corridor down to another door on the left. She led the way down the resulting stairs. It wasn't a grand staircase as they had seen in the entranceway, but it must have led to some place of significant importance as Blaise felt that similar ripple in the air as if she was passing those statues again.

It brought her to a halt, glancing back to the Flame Emperor behind her.

He shifted in the faint light, arms crossing. "I feel it."

Blaise frowned, considering the magic. It was similar but different. Less oppressive. Still, she shoved her anger away for the moment and offered her hand to her companion just in case.

She moved cautiously but never felt anything more than magic in the air.

Blaise began to notice something else though as the staircase took them ever downward. It started with a deep scar in the white stone to which she paused to caress. There were markings that had once been there but had been overtaken by the wound.

_He defiled it._

Blaise was surprised by the thought that flitted through her mind, nearly losing her balance on the stairway.

She didn't know who "he" was.

At the base of the stairs were numerous scorch marks, the remains of spell work. Portions of the walls were missing here, and broken rock littered the floor.

_They enticed him with promises of power… as they had so many others._

Fighting back shivers as the air suddenly grew colder, Blaise turned again, following the path she knew from her dream. Funny how she had never noticed the deteriorating condition of this area before. She wasn't far from Chevalier now though and she sped up with anticipation. One more staircase and a right turn and…

The ground suddenly dipped beneath her feet and she only barely managed to grab ahold of the more stable edge, leaving her dangling above the floor below.

_Neither foe nor ally could predict the depth of their lies._

Blaise's heart beat violently in her chest, scrabbling to drag herself back up. Her mind raced with the thoughts not quite her own but even they couldn't drown out the dangerous creak that was her weight pulling against the strength of the floor.

The Flame Emperor made a desperate grab for her.

She forgave him in that moment.

_Through fallacies and betrayals, our end was met, and our imprisonment began._

_Just as they planned._

Blaise doubted it was the added weight that caused the floor to finally give but give it did and she plummeted into the dark. It wasn't a long fall before she crashed into stone, pain shooting through her injured arm and breath knocked from her lungs. Her head spun, vision gone.

_But there is a fine line between destroyer and savior._

_They cannot see such._

She thought she might have heard footsteps approach, but her consciousness seemed to have reached its limits as sound began to fade from her mind.

_Do you understand, Névé?_

_They believe us the same, but I know you can be that which I was not._

_~FE~_

Blaise wasn't sure if she ever actually passed out. Refusing to move in case the action furthered her loss in consciousness, she attempted to keep tabs on her surroundings. The stone was a tad damp which, coupled with her burn, made her feel clammy.

It reminded her that her arm hurt.

So, she shifted, freeing the appendage from beneath her.

Blaise suddenly became aware of how her head was pounding, inducing a slight nausea deep in her stomach. She tried not to think about it.

"Névé?!"

Her eyes shot open, only met with the dark.

Somehow it made her head hurt more.

"Névé?! Can you hear me? Stay where you are, and I will find my way to you."

Blaise's thoughts screamed at how bad an idea that was. It should be the other way around. The Flame Emperor was only going to end up falling through the floor.

She had proved that much.

Silently, she cursed. The Flame Emperor was going to make her get up to stop him from being as stupid as she was.

"If you are able, I would appreciate any indication of your condition…"

If Blaise felt better, she might have laughed. He really did have a strange way of wording things. Complicated and indirect.

Her hand twitched.

A little fire spell should at least ease any worry he had. It suddenly seemed very hard though as her search within for some magic came up empty.

"Allow me."

The voice, not five feet away, got her attention and Blaise snapped into a sitting position despite any protests her body had. Her hand instinctively went to the sheath buckled around her waist only for her to remember she'd lost her sword.

There was a flash of fire, briefly illuminating a silhouette. Blaise couldn't catch any details except the reflection of light off something shiny.

Silver, perhaps?

**_Chevalier_**?

Her hand was gesturing the question before she'd even thought about how no one could see it in the dark.

There was a soft laugh and then whispers of movement until Blaise felt the presence of someone in front of her. A hand rested on her shoulder and a soothing warmth spread through her battered body. She felt better and found it within herself to light her hand with fire. Her curiosity would not allow her to wait a second longer.

And before her, in the dim light of her spell, knelt Chevalier. Loose pieces of her long hair brushed her thighs, her lips quirked in a smile more welcoming than any Blaise could ever remember seeing before, and her eyes... they were so familiar.

**_Chevalier?_**

Her hand repeated the motion because she simply couldn't fathom the woman physically before her. It was sad to think how, in actuality, she had doubted her own sanity so.

"Yes." Chevalier's assurance was little more than a breath. Her hand shifted, fingers combing through Blaise's tangled mess of hair. "It has been far too long, Névé."

**_I know you._**

It was as much a question as it was a statement because how could she know someone she was meeting for the first time?

"Yes."

**_I don't understand._**

Chevalier's smile flickered and she pulled her hand away, sending waves of disappointment through Blaise. "No," Chevalier whispered. "I do not expect you would."

Blaise scooted forward as Chevalier pulled back. Rhea's sweet smiles may have been frustratingly welcome, but she had nothing on Chevalier. It earned a laugh from the green-haired woman. "I had never considered you an attention seeker," she mused

Was that a bad thing? Blaise wasn't sure.

As if in answer, Chevalier returned to stroking Blaise's hair. "But then affection has been few and far between for you. I imagine a little indulging shall not hurt."

Was that why?

Upon thinking about it, she believed there may be some truth to it.

Her father loved her. She had no doubt, but he wasn't... adoring. He raised her to take care of herself without him, an important lesson in a mercenary's line of work. He was a man of few words and even fewer expressions of affection. Balen loved her but was even more extreme than her father. She often felt isolated from everyone else.

She wondered if it would have been the same had she known her mother.

Chevalier turned her gaze upward. "Your friend is concerned for your well being..."

Blaise jerked her attention back to her unorthodox entrance. She couldn't see the Flame Emperor from her angle, and she scrambled to her feet. That wasn't good. Had he already started looking for her?

Chevalier stood taller than Blaise as she straightened beside her and held a hand out over the mercenary's fire. It caught Blaise's attention and she watched, open-mouthed, as Chevalier manipulated the flames into words the Flame Emperor would no doubt be able to see.

_I know the way out. I'll come to you._

Several seconds passed before the robotic voice answered. "You have thirty minutes before I come looking for you."

Blaise let out a sigh of relief even as Chevalier laughed, the green-haired woman crossing her arms. "I understand your attraction. They are quite ... captivating," she commented.

Attraction?

Blaise tilted her head. She'd only met him today.

"The crests..." Chevalier's expression had turned more pensive.

**_What?_**

Chevalier shook her head from some reverie and shifted her attention back to Blaise, her smile returning. "My apologies, Névé, but … it seems I have much to say in little time…"

**_You need my help?_**

Her smile remained in place, but it suddenly didn't reach her eyes as she raised her hand to once again tousle Blaise's hair. "I do and yet ... it may be necessary to wait," she admitted.

**_I can handle it._**

Blaise straightened as if that would show she could, in fact, handle it.

"Do not misunderstand. I do not doubt you, but I am concerned..." Chevalier trailed off, nodding for Blaise to follow her. The mercenary did so, remaining on her heels as Chevalier led her into a room she recognized.

The blue sea star shone through the broken window, reflecting off the polished stone and bathing Blaise in the soft light of her dream. Chevalier strode across the room, hopping up into her spot along the windowsill while Blaise considered her surroundings.

Everything was broken and in disarray.

Why would Chevalier remain here of all places?

Blaise turned to ask only for her wandering gaze to fall on a symbol engraved into one of the walls like a kind of mural. It was a crest. More specifically, the one the Flame Emperor had shown her.

"The Crest of Flames otherwise known as the Crest of the Goddess," Chevalier explained as Blaise slowly approached and caressed the artwork. "Much of… our story intertwines," she admitted.

**_Intertwines?_**

"I was third generation Nabatean. To many, I was unworthy to stand beside Sothis. But... as you can imagine, my crest is unusual, even by Nabatean standards. It caught her eye and I was welcomed into Zanado. There was a time when my crest was featured prominently in our culture. It has since been lost. There are many reasons but, in part, because I only ever gave my crest to three people..."

Her voice once strong and confident had softened with uncertainty as if she wasn't sure she wanted Blaise to hear at all. Still, it seemed to echo around them as did the silence that stretched for many minutes after. Blaise's concern grew and she was about to ask if she was okay when Chevalier forced words from a dry throat. "…One, a revolutionary whose ideals aligned with my own. I had hoped to empower him, yet he went mad weeks later. He could not balance the different crests and their constant beat drove him to his death."

Blaise blinked, turning to find Chevalier watching her with an almost detached expression.

"The second was a child. My foolish desire to amend my sins led me to believe a child would adapt to balance the crests where an adult could not. She was to be my redemption… Yet she did not live past the age of seven."

What… was she doing?

Chevalier barely paused for a breath.

"I swore then I would never share my crest with another. The human race was too fragile for it. There are only two crests I believe could ground resonance for humanity and both were rendered... inaccessible. I believed it my punishment to remain while my people cried out for rest they had been denied even in death.

But… almost twenty years ago an old friend drew me out and took me to a child no older than three. They implored me to gift her with my crest. Initially, I refused. I told them she would die, driven insane as the others before her. They said the child did not belong there, she had been taken in the night. The wrong child from the one they wanted. An accident. But they agreed to spare her if I gifted my crest. They believed, should the child survive, she may be of use… Just as I had been."

Chevalier grimaced, lip curling in a silent fury.

"And, so, I did. And, in an act of childish defiance, I stole the child back and returned her to whence she came. I swore to them she had died… I never dreamed you actually would survive. How could I have predicted you would have access to not only one of the crests that would allow you to do so but both?"

She was leaning forward now, her chin resting on her palm and dark green eyes boring into Blaise's cobalt blue.

"I fear they know of you, Névé, and, if they do not, they will soon. You have not been subtle in my absence. Your friend knows both your crest and the name Névé, there are others who you have shown your crest. Our enemies have eyes and ears everywhere and your resonance grows more powerful each day, shining a beacon upon you. You have already come close to giving them that which they desire. Too close." She leapt down from the windowsill to stand before Blaise. "Do you understand? I do not wish to see my fate in repeat," Chevalier insisted.

**_What about you?_**

The smile returned to Chevalier's features with the slightest tilt of her head. "Now simply is not the time."

Blaise raised her hand but didn't know what to say so it remained frozen in the air. She didn't like that answer. None of this had gone the way she had expected. She was supposed to help... not cause more problems. Not be powerless.

Annoyance prickled beneath her skin, unable to articulate such.

Chevalier moved her hand slowly as if expecting Blaise to jerk away. Blaise didn't though and Chevalier took her raised hand, holding it gently in her own. "It is okay. There is nothing wrong with silence."

Again, her words were unexpected, and Blaise felt her constant frustration ease. She knew what Chevalier was saying yet Blaise had to wonder if she had chosen to phrase it that way for another reason.

She liked to think so.

**_What should I do?_**

"One's outward appearance is not always indicative of what is beneath. You have a unique ability to see deeper. Learn to use it and trust your instincts. In that way, you can escape becoming a pawn in another's game. Then, perhaps, one day, you can save that which I destroyed."

_A/N:_

_So this chapter was a little bit different and, thus, the longer update time. Honestly, I ended up rewriting significant portions at least three times_ _but I'm fairly pleased that everything in here has a purpose. I was very deliberate about what was written and what remains shrouded or ambiguous._

_I believe the next chapter should have some sibling/family time and perhaps the beginning of Mission #2 which roughly corresponds with Mutiny in the Mist. Subject to change, of course, depending on my every whim._


	8. Chapter 7

It was with some reluctance Blaise allowed Chevalier to guide her back to the floor above, but the Flame Emperor was unlikely to wait much longer for her to return... It was already bizarre he was waiting for her at all.

And, yet, he was, albeit tapping his foot impatiently.

He had no sooner seen her maneuvering across the damaged floor than he was bulldozing his way toward her. Blaise winced at some of the creaks the floor gave, but she suspected he had been testing spots as he waited for her in case he needed to cross to get to her.

That was certainly nice of him.

As it was, he met her halfway, grabbing her arm and jerking her close just as bright light flooded her vision.

The next moment she found herself face down on the forest floor, the Flame Emperor having apparently warped the two of them from Zanado. Why he hadn't done that when they were almost eaten by monster wolves was beyond her, but it was a question for another day when she had better means of communication.

Blaise did little more than bow low in what she hoped would represent sufficient gratitude before she took off into the night for the monastery. However, she didn't make it very far before she paused. The Flame Emperor wasn't even out of her sight and their parting already felt unsatisfying. Blaise turned and rushed back to the unmoving figure.

She wanted their paths to cross again but how to tell him where to find her...?

She pointed in the direction of the monastery. If he knew much about the area, he was certain to know Garreg Mach was that way.

"You are going over there…?"

Blaise nodded but then pointed more emphatically in said direction.

And the mask watched her, but his silence suggested he wasn't getting it.

She frowned as she lowered her arm, trying to think of something else to convey her thoughts. Did she have anything from the monastery? She didn't think so, but she dug through her bag anyway.

Her hand brushed paper she had not remembered she had.

A map!

It wasn't a blank sheet she could write on, but it was a map of the area she had used to keep track of where they had been when searching for the bandits. Surely Garreg Mach Monastery was on there. Pulling the creased and slightly torn parchment out, Blaise scanned it and grinned as she located the monastery. Turning it to him, she pointed again.

He leaned forward, likely trying to see what had her so excited in the dark. "Garreg Mach Monastery," he read, a thoughtful pause following. "I presume you mean to tell me that is where you are going?"

Blaise nodded again before sweeping into a bow even lower than the last one. It was more subordinate than equal. Something she hoped would tell him she would be glad to work with him again should he ever want her help.

Of course, it was impossible to tell if he understood her offer, much less how he felt about it, so she left it at that. Waving one last time, Blaise ran off toward the monastery.

~FE~

By the time she was walking through the gates and into the empty marketplace, Blaise had a million objectives she wanted to accomplish.

First and foremost was a bath. Needless to say, the bath house was empty this late at night... or early in the morning, depending on how one looked at it, so she had the place to herself. She had never been particularly modest, but she did enjoy relaxing in hot water in complete silence that only happened if she was the only one there. Once she had comfortably settled in the steaming water, Blaise ran through the rest of her list.

She needed to get a new sword.

She wanted to research in the library.

She needed to see Manuela and have her heal her arm.

Oh, wait.

Blaise twisted said arm in the torchlight. It was already healed... and not just patched up but with no evidence of it ever having been burned. The memory of Chevalier's warmth crossed her mind. Well, at least that was one less thing to do.

She shut her eyes, allowing herself this moment to drift, and only after nearly falling asleep did she drag herself out of the bath. Blaise grimaced as she was forced to put her dirty clothes back on to get to her room where she could change.

That was another thing which needed to be done. Wash her clothes.

Blaise had every intention of simply changing and carrying on with her schedule, but she had barely redressed when the call of her bed became too much.

So, she added taking a nap to her list, falling back onto the mattress among a blanket.

Her sleep was deep and dreamless, her body thoroughly exhausted, and, despite her intentions, it became much longer than a nap.

She would have slept longer too if it wasn't for the fist that began pounding on her door. At first Blaise's sleep-addled mind didn't recognize the noise. Then she ignored it, burying her head in her blanket to mute the sound. Only when it got so incessant she couldn't ignore it anymore did she stumble to the door.

Blaise was surprised to see Professor Manuela and rubbed her eyes against the bright light as if it was making her see things.

"Blaise! Are you still sleeping this late?" the professor inquired, causing Blaise to wince at the volume.

Apparently, her head hurt... as did the rest of her. Blaise attempted to stretch her arms and loosen the stiff muscles.

"That just won't do. Come along, Dear. I have the perfect job for you."

That... did not give her the feeling she wanted to do whatever Manuela had in mind at all. Blaise glanced back over her shoulder at her bed.

A mistake as it gave Manuela the perfect opportunity to grab her elbow and drag her along beside her.

Blaise tripped over her feet, forced to follow Manuela down the stairs. She vaguely realized she was being taken to the classrooms but, mostly, she was trying to blink away the sun. It was definitely well into the afternoon with the sun high in the sky.

"... And there I was wondering how I would juggle my duties when I thought of you. Like a bright light to my darkest dilemma..."

What?

Blaise shook her head, trying to make some sense of what was going on around her, but Manuela was already pulling open the door to the Black Eagles classroom and shoving her inside in front of her.

"Okay, Kids, the knights who just returned require my expertise so Blaise has graciously agreed to take over the rest of class today..."

Blaise promptly yawned and then jerked as it occurred to her what Manuela had just said. She was taking over class? When did she agree to that?

Silence was the predominant response to Manuela's declaration.

She hoped that was out of surprise and not disdain. Feeling self-conscious, Blaise attempted to comb her fingers through the disaster that had to be her hair.

Edelgard, in her spot in front beside Hubert and appearing nearly as tired as Blaise felt, raised her hand. She didn't wait for permission to speak, a frown on her face. "Did you wake her up, Professor?" For some reason, she sounded very disapproving of the act.

"Now, Edie, it's the middle of the day…"

**_ I'm nocturnal._**

Professor Manuela gave Blaise a look at the interruption that was torn between being amused and, well, not. "You are not," she accused.

Was last night.

Blaise sighed because, of course, no one noticed her absence.

"Manuela, she just returned from her mission. Don't you think she should have a day to rest?" Edelgard insisted.

Thank you, Edelgard.

She had just returned from a mission and then went on an impromptu one with only a few hours of rest.

"She had all yesterday to rest..."

Blaise's eyes widened slightly as she realized Manuela was right because, again, no one knew she had left yesterday.

Damn.

"Don't worry, Edie. We won't run her ragged."

That was Dorothea, sitting at the desk behind Edelgard. She looked very cheerful for reasons Blaise could not comprehend.

Edelgard must have run out of arguments because she sat back in her chair, massaging her head.

Manuela clapped her hands. "Great, it's settled then. Run them through some drills ("Yes!" from Caspar) or teach them Sign or anything. My notes are on the desk and the practice weapons in the chest against the wall. Just keep them alive and Rhea will be pleased," the professor insisted. "You all behave," Manuela wished before waltzing out the door with a final wave.

Blaise was left standing there amidst a deafening silence which, all at once, exploded into excited chitchat that even jerked Linhardt awake. She ran a hand through her hair a second time, silently cursing Manuela. The professor had better be working in the infirmary, not going on a date.

With another deep sigh, she ignored the questions thrown her way and crossed the room for Manuela's notes. One look at the mess on the desk and Blaise decided it wasn't worth the effort.

That left drills and, goddess, was she sore.

Caspar would be happy though.

Stretching her arms behind her head, she observed the students. Their questions to her had shifted into expectations and exclamations carried on amongst themselves by Caspar, Ferdinand, Dorothea, and Petra. Bernadetta was cowering under her desk, Linhardt once again asleep upon his. That left Edelgard and Hubert as the only two paying her any bit of attention.

As she watched, Edelgard whispered something to the dark-haired mage beside her before she stood and approached the front where Blaise waited. "They're not normally this... rowdy," the princess sighed, sounding both apologetic and embarrassed. "I will call them to attention if you desire," she offered.

Blaise shook her head, not terribly concerned by the behavior. Rowdy students were nothing compared to rowdy mercenaries. More than that, though, she wanted to meet expectations and show she could teach a class just like Balen.

Edelgard tilted her head, obviously taken aback by her declining help but she said nothing, only exchanging a look with Hubert still at his desk.

Maybe she was being a tad presumptuous, but Blaise thought the two students might be at least a little impressed.

It was possible Hubert was simply amused.

Either way, Blaise grabbed the edge of the blackboard and wheeled it into the middle of the room where she left it before waving her hand at both Edelgard and Hubert for them to follow her.

She knew they were curious as she completely ignored the bickering students and led them to the chest Manuela said held the practice weapons. Kicking it open, she pointed for them to pick one. Edelgard, predictably, took an axe and Blaise moved her to the side and left her there. Edelgard raised an eyebrow but did not move from her position.

She went back for Hubert who was frowning down at the trunk. "I prefer the magics," Hubert stated.

Blaise ignored the slight note of disdain in his tone and simply pointed harder. She, of course, knew he was a mage but there were three tiers of weapon defense Blaise lived by. Everyone should know how to wield a physical close-range weapon like a sword, lance, or axe, a long-range weapon such as a bow or magic, and have a hidden dagger for maximum protection on the battlefield.

Eyeing her with more than a little suspicion, Hubert knelt and picked up a lance.

An interesting choice, Blaise didn't so much as blink, but led Hubert next to Edelgard and held a hand out for him to wait.

She turned around for her next student. Petra, Caspar, Ferdinand, and Dorothea were still quite engaged with each other. Blaise ignored them again in favor of Bernadetta. Despite her slow approach, the purple-haired girl still curled even further into herself. She paused a respectful distance away and sat down on the ground. Blaise hadn't even pulled out a sheet of paper to write on when Bernadetta's hand twitched.

Blaise managed to pick out the words "don't know" and "weapons" within the shaky Sign.

She was so taken aback, it took Blaise a second to respond. **_You practiced!_** Blaise grinned, leaning forward.

Slightly emboldened, Bernadetta smiled weakly and uncurled. She made a few motions with her hand that she could see before flipping it around for Blaise. **_In room._**

Blaise had heard Bernadetta frequented her room more than anywhere else. At least it seemed she was productive in there. **_I'm impressed._** Bernadetta narrowed her eyes at the motion so Blaise slowed it down, repeating it in a loop a couple of times until Blaise was certain she didn't recognize the word. Concerned she may get disheartened, Blaise scribbled it down and repeated the motion again, earning another weak smile.

Then she moved on to her actual agenda. _Are you a mage?_

Perhaps that was why she didn't know any weapons.

"No... I- I just…" A pause and then Bernadetta suddenly let out a frustrated noise that had Blaise jumping where she sat. "Stupid, Bernie! Worthless. Can't do any-"

More than a little perturbed by Bernadetta's self-deprecation, Blaise snapped her fingers, effectively cutting the girl's tirade short. _It's okay if you don't know a weapon. Let's pick one to work on._

It took a little more coaxing and a promise that it would be easy, but Blaise soon had Bernadetta standing on Edelgard's other side with a bow and a bag of practice arrows in hand.

Blaise tackled the chattering quartet next, reaching out to grab Dorothea by the wrist and pulling her toward the chest. She chose a sword and Blaise placed her next to Bernadetta.

Petra, having noticed Dorothea being pulled away, was already watching so Blaise motioned for her to come over. The classroom finally quieted completely as everyone wondered exactly what Blaise was up to. Petra chose a sword and took her place beside Hubert. Then Ferdinand chose an axe and stood next to Petra.

That left Caspar in the middle and a snoring Linhardt at a desk.

She knew Caspar used an axe so Blaise picked out a sword and an axe, the latter of which she tossed to Caspar. She scanned her line of students thoughtfully as she stepped into the middle of the room beside the blackboard, writing out her first question. _Who's primarily mage? Step forward. _

Dorothea and Hubert moved forward, Dorothea with a noticeably larger step.

Blaise crossed her arms and considered them. Two mages, three axes, one sword, one bow. She thought she remembered Claude saying something to Balen when preparing for the mock battle about the Empire producing many axe and magic users. Apparently, that was accurate. The only two who didn't follow said pattern were Bernadetta and Petra and Petra was actually from another country anyways.

She allowed her mages to step back before turning to Caspar, spinning her practice sword in her hand to get a feel for it. It wasn't a real sword, that was for sure, but it copied the balance and shape well-enough to be useful. The edge was blunt, but it would leave a nasty bruise if she hit hard enough. She spun it in her hand a couple more times, stretching sore muscles, before holding it before her and dropping into her fighting stance. Her free hand waved for Caspar to come at her.

"If I may, might I suggest we relocate to the training grounds?" Ferdinand suggested.

Blaise did not so much as glance over her shoulder but wrote on the board without looking._ Very few battles are as open as the training grounds._

Caspar was hefting his axe with growing excitement. "Ooh! Or we could move the desks and open-"

Blaise shook her head. _Too easy. Desks are obstacles._

"What about Linhardt?" That was Dorothea's concerned voice.

_Just leave him there._ Blaise could practically feel everyone exchange looks with each other. She still did not move from her position. They had asked for a mercenary, after all. _Anything else? _

Nothing but silence reached her ears so she nodded to Caspar.

The boy, grinning, raised his axe above his head and charged, yelling a war cry at the top of his lungs. Blaise took note of several things. One, much like his performance in the mock battle, he was running with reckless abandon. She could easily step out of his way and allow him to run right into the desks behind her. Two, while Edelgard's technique with her axe had been fine, Caspar's was not. He was practically waving it over his head. Three, he stood no chance against her.

Blaise opted not to step out of the way. Instead she took one step forward and slipped under his axe, a dangerous place for an axe-wielder to have an opposing sword. Axes simply weren't fast enough to outmaneuver a sword on an amateur level and their reach better at a certain distance away from the wielder.

Had he been an enemy, she would have ripped her sword up the length of him.

As her temporary student, Blaise did the same, only with her practice sword.

Caspar recoiled, swinging his axe down in some attempt to get her out in front of him. Her sword, already raised, caught the head of it and, with a twist of her wrist, the axe was out of his hands and thrown across the room toward Linhardt. To finish, Blaise kicked one of his legs out from under him and he toppled onto his back where she let him lay and recover.

The entire encounter was only a few seconds total.

Blaise stepped over the winded Caspar and faced Linhardt who had just been very rudely awakened as Caspar's axe had slammed into his desk so hard one of the legs was knocked loose. She was glad to see Linhardt was taking her approach seriously, but all she did was snatch up the practice axe and turn her back on him.

Caspar seemed to have recovered enough to stand though he moved with a limp... and hunched over a bit.

"Ow!" Caspar complained, also rubbing his head before he grinned. "That was awesome! Well, for you, not for me," he admitted.

At least he was a good sport.

Blaise only shrugged, spinning his axe around and offering him the handle.

Caspar tenderly wrapped his fingers around it. "How'd I do?" he asked cheerfully.

Blaise was back at the board. _You need to work on everything. Go stand next to Dorothea._

She scanned the students as Caspar hobbled off. It was apparent she had their undivided attention, a few even seemed a bit pale. She pointed to Ferdinand who was next in line.

Ferdinand was much less enthusiastic than Caspar, at least having now witnessed what sparring with her was like. He moved with some hesitancy as he joined Blaise in the middle of the classroom. "I am Ferdinand von Aegir..." he whispered under his breath. He swung his axe a few times in preparation and a smile returned to his face. "I feel inclined to warn you, I am better even than Edelgard."

Bold statement that earned more than a few sniggers or scoffs from his classmates. He either ignored them or didn't notice at all.

Whatever, she hoped he was ready to prove it.

She swung her sword in front of her in a silent invitation.

Ferdinand approached but with caution. She gave him credit for recognizing it would take more than a single rush to take her down. However, he used a bit too much caution, making him too slow. Before he had even raised his axe, Blaise's practice sword slammed into his wrists, his axe clattering to the ground as he failed to keep a grip. She followed with the pommel of her sword in his face, knocking him backwards though he did remain on his feet.

She sent him to join Caspar with a bleeding nose.

Petra was a step above the two boys. She was no novice with her sword, was calculating, and fast. Very fast. Blaise had barely challenged her to start the fight and the princess of Brigid was upon her. Parry after parry, their swords met with a clap of wood on wood. Certain she was keeping up, Blaise took their battle another step up.

She moved.

Blaise dodged to one side and then the other, ran over desks and chairs, forcing Petra to work to keep up only to meet Blaise's sword at the other end. Blaise nearly caught her like that multiple times, but Petra managed to pull back and recover her defenses. Blaise forced her to remain on the defensive though, watching as her opponent grew more frustrated at her inability to break through.

And that was when Blaise baited her.

Under the guise of breaking away, she used her sword to shove Petra backward and bolted to an open space across the room. Petra raced after her... and promptly went right by as Blaise stepped out of the way.

Petra crashed into Linhardt's desk, taking both herself and the boy occupying it down. Before she could recover, Blaise kicked Petra's practice sword away from her hand and called victory. She offered a hand to help Petra up, sending the girl after Ferdinand. Linhardt had finally taken the hint and joined the rest of the Black Eagles in line.

Blaise didn't even have to wave Hubert out of line as he met her in the middle. _You can use magic or_ _your lance._ She stayed on her toes, knowing full well battling mages required a very different kind of strategy. She also guessed Hubert was one of those people who would not give anything away nor would he follow any kind of honor code.

He was similar to a mercenary in that respect.

Luckily, she was quite familiar with them.

Hubert fired off a spell, dark magic by the look of it, sending Blaise scurrying in another direction. It hit a desk which crashed into the wall and shattered into pieces. She knew Hubert had quite a lot of power behind his spells but, goddess, she didn't want to be hit by that. His timing wasn't bad either, making it more difficult to get to him without taking a spell in the face. Blaise was forced to sacrifice a few more desks and her blackboard to drain Hubert of his endurance before she could charge him. She considered herself lucky that her running back and forth could hold out longer than his spells or she would be in trouble indeed.

Once she managed to close in on him, the tide turned immediately in her favor. His skill with his lance was practically nonexistent and she barely twisted his hand with her sword, and he was disarmed, leaving him both magicless and weaponless.

Blaise left it at that, and he joined his classmates better off than the rest of them thus far.

That brought Edelgard to the middle and, though everyone had been watching before, they now watched with increased interest. Blaise could practically feel them lean forward in anticipation.

It made her skin prickle.

Taking one deep breath to settle the sudden discomfort, Blaise swung her sword in front of her and nodded to Edelgard.

The Imperial Princess moved but she didn't charge as the others had. She simply stepped around at a distance, her axe ready and gaze fixated on Blaise. Interestingly, it was similar to what Ferdinand had done except Edelgard was taking it a step farther, waiting on Blaise to make the first move.

Blaise matched her step, circling around with her, as she considered how best to proceed. She noted Edelgard was holding her axe higher so disarming her would be more difficult unless she could make her hold slip. That may be feasible once she was tired out more.

The question was, did Blaise even have enough stamina left to accomplish that?

She supposed she was about to find out.

A plan in mind, Blaise was the one to engage the sparring match. She leapt across the room, her practice sword meeting Edelgard's axe once, twice, three times before she dodged a swing that she questioned she had the strength to block. She attempted a stab but Edelgard already had her axe back up, forcing Blaise's sword to swing wide. The mercenary disengaged and they returned to circling.

Silently, Blaise applauded Edelgard's newfound ability to keep from over-swinging her axe. It certainly kept her in the match just now.

Of course, it made Blaise's job more difficult.

As with Petra, she took the battle up a notch. She charged a second time with a series of quick jabs which she knew an axe would have difficulty keeping up with. Edelgard managed to block most, only allowing a few to slip through her defenses. It certainly wasn't enough to cause damage much less put her out of the fight. That wasn't the point though because a few well-aimed hits had forced Edelgard's grip to lower in some semblance of protection.

Their weapons met again, and Blaise held the encounter for an extra moment, snapping one hand out to hit her wrist to help her notice she was slipping.

Edelgard was the one to disengage this time, using her strength to shove Blaise back.

Blaise kept her feet and even pivoted for a quicker recovery.

Had Edelgard been an enemy she would have charged mercilessly before allowing her opponent to regroup but this was training and the longer they kept going the more they would both learn. Edelgard was also different from the other Black Eagles in that Blaise already knew some things to work on.

As such, Blaise took the moment to breathe while Edelgard fixed her hold. She had barely enjoyed the moment when Edelgard was back at it with a downward attack that Blaise dodged followed by a sideways swipe down the middle which further forced Blaise to jump back... and right into a desk.

Well played, Edelgard.

With a hiss at the hard contact which surely would leave a bruise, Blaise rolled with the impact, landing on her feet on the other side just in time for Edelgard to jump from the chair, her axe aimed for Blaise's head. There was no time to dodge so Blaise swung her sword, managing to throw Edelgard's axe wide so it missed her by inches but ended with the two colliding in a flurry of arms, legs, and practice weapons.

Blaise thought the crash as they hit the ground might have dislodged a flag or two hanging on the wall.

Disentangling herself and fully aware of the drain she was beginning to feel, Blaise dove for her wooden sword, determined to end this sparring session.

Edelgard twisted, swinging her axe awkwardly in an attempt to prevent Blaise from doing so.

She would have been successful had Blaise not grabbed hold of her offending wrist. It turned out that, despite her strength, Edelgard was not much of a brawler. She was unable to free her weapon arm before Blaise retrieved her sword and swung it around to rest on her neck.

There was nothing but silence for a moment, Blaise holding her position as she expected Edelgard might argue or attempt something else. Finally, though, Edelgard let out a breath that released a significant amount of tension from her body. "Yield," she conceded.

And with that, Blaise let her go, dropping her practice sword on the ground as she stood straight and tried to massage away the pain of her newfound bruise. She offered the Imperial Princess her free hand.

A hand which she accepted.

That boded well, Blaise decided, since she suspected Edelgard's pride might have been a little wounded. As it was, everyone else was staring with various expressions ranging from shock to admiration to fury, the latter of which being Hubert. Blaise was quite glad she'd had the foresight to wear him out first. She was certain she'd be barbecue by now had he any magic left.

Edelgard silently joined her classmates so deep in thought Blaise could practically see the gears turning in her mind. Hubert whispered something to her as she stopped beside him, and she shook her head.

Their encounter with Balen during the mock battle flashed through Blaise's mind. Hubert had been similarly upset.

Preferring not to dwell on possibilities of assassination, Blaise turned to her remaining students. Bernadetta was trembling in her spot with Dorothea attempting to reassure her although the mercenary suspected Bernadetta was too far gone to hear. Linhardt leaned against the wall, beginning to nod off now that the excitement was dying down.

Blaise motioned for Dorothea, and the brunette, with one last concerned glance at Bernadetta, stepped forward until she stood across from Blaise.

Except Blaise didn't stay there nor engage her in any battle but approached the board which had toppled over during her session with Hubert. It had a chunk missing from the corner but, otherwise, stood back up and functioned with no problems.

_Bernadetta..._

"Please, don't kill me!" the girl shrieked, her eyes shutting tight.

_We're not battling. You don't even have to move from your spot._

Blaise had to wait patiently for Bernadetta to peek one eye open and read what she had written but, finally, she relaxed just a smidge. "I don't?"

_No_.

"O-okay," Bernadetta stammered.

Blaise nodded and moved on to her instructions.

_Bernadetta-Aim practice arrows at Dorothea._

_Dorothea-Use your magic to block or utilize any other means necessary to EVADE._

It wouldn't do for now to have Bernadetta running off because of black magic flying at her face. This would give her a pretty good idea of both girls' abilities while keeping Bernadetta's anxiety at a minimum. Dorothea was at least charming enough to not be overtly intimidating and empathic enough to not care about being only a step above practice dummy.

She received a nod from the mage who even gave Bernadetta an encouraging smile and a "Come on, Bern!"

Bernadetta's large purple eyes fixated on Dorothea as she shakily drew her bow up and fitted it with a practice arrow.

Blaise had now successfully moved next to her without sending her running and chanced using two fingers to raise her hand more into the middle for increased support of the arrow. Her other hand seemed to be basically correct, three fingers lightly holding the practice arrow. Despite her statement that she didn't know any weapons, Blaise thought Bernadetta had likely been working with the bow some. Her stance was a little off, her body not quite perpendicular to the arrow, but, otherwise, she looked pretty good.

Blaise wrote as much down and Bernadetta, only lightly trembling, readjusted before allowing her arrow to fly toward Dorothea with a gasp.

It wasn't a bad shot but flew straight to Dorothea. It was, however, quite predictable and Dorothea had plenty of time to disintegrate the practice arrow with a simple fire spell before it threatened her.

_Three arrows in succession._

Bernadetta squeaked something that Blaise supposed was some kind of affirmative and did as told.

The first shot was much like the previous, on point but predictable with Dorothea easily dispatching it. Bernadetta fumbled with the second but still managed to surprise the mage. The arrow was slightly off target and Dorothea opted to dodge out of the way.

A smart decision on her part. There was no need to waste a spell for something she could sidestep, and beginner mages often hurt themselves trying to cast spells too quickly or in a panic.

Bernadetta's third arrow was steadier but wide as the young archer did not quite account for Dorothea's movement.

_Repeat but slower._

Blaise circled around behind Bernadetta, taking note of Dorothea's position.

Bernadetta was a fair shot, she decided, her aim against an unmoving target well and against a moving Dorothea fair. Blaise continued to order three shots at a time and nudged Bernadetta's elbow in one direction or another to account for Dorothea's movements until she only found it necessary to do so occasionally.

Dorothea, for her part, was neither faster than Hubert nor as powerful and technically advanced as him. That said, it was clear Dorothea was newer to the art of magic. When Blaise allowed Bernadetta to step aside, she put Dorothea through a few paces with their practice swords and determined her a tad slow but capable enough to hold her own for a few minutes against an average fighter. Blaise allowed her to join her classmates without anything more extensive.

That left her with Linhardt who Ferdinand clapped on the back to wake up. She wasn't quite sure what to do with him. He claimed to be a healer and insisted on being passive which was fine… if he never saw a real battle. He apparently wasn't fond of blood… which was also kind of strange for a healer.

Blaise crossed her arms at his subpar arguments against battle. _What about your own?_

Linhardt stared at her in a way she knew he was questioning her intelligence. "Blood is blood. It makes me ill."

_Then I would suggest you pick a weapon or you're going to be seeing a lot more of your own than you would like._

In the end, Blaise ended up dragging him to the middle of the classroom where she made him take up the practice sword she had been using since he had no weapon preference and swords were kind of her specialty. They did little more than a basic routine, Blaise more focused on his stance and hold than anything else. She doubted he would end up sticking with a sword but perhaps he would give his work some thought.

Blaise broke them up into simple sparring pairs after that.

Ferdinand and Caspar had opposite problems so she paired them together since their natural battling would help them improve their weak points on their own.

She paired Edelgard and Petra, allowing Edelgard to work against speed and on her endurance. Bar speed, Edelgard was likely to out maneuver Petra and provide a challenge for the Brigidian Princess.

She threw the three magic users together, suggesting they each practice for increased endurance as well, leaving herself to work one-on-one with Bernadetta.

Blaise let out a breath of relief when the students paired off as suggested. No one complained which she filed away as a success.

She was able to turn her attention to Bernadetta. She was just guiding her through a blocking technique with her bow when their classroom door opened. Blaise's hand instinctively fell to her hip for her real sword, cursing again at how she had yet to replace the weapon.

It was only Balen though and she quickly relaxed.

Her brother's eyes scanned the room before settling on Blaise and he walked toward her. Bernadetta squeaked and jumped behind her so Blaise, glancing at the archer, waved for her to join Edelgard and Petra instead. She turned back to Balen as he stopped in front of her. **_Balen…_**

**_ Can we talk?_**

Blaise frowned as she heard much of the sparring around her quiet, no doubt everyone curious as to what Balen was doing. **_Can it wait? I'm teaching._**

More or less.

For some reason, she almost felt defensive.

She saw Balen's eyes flicker around the room. **_Where's Professor Manuela?_**

**_Infirmary._**

Balen didn't immediately respond so Blaise crossed her arms and simply waited for whatever it was he wanted.

**_I'm taking my class to Zanado. We're about to leave. Do you want to come?_**

She hesitated, surprised by the invitation. **_Rhea will not…_**

**_She won't mind if I ask._**

Really? Rhea would listen to Balen like that?

The thought made her uncomfortable.

**_I thought you said your class wouldn't be ready for another week._**

Balen nodded but then shrugged. **_I did assessments yesterday. Everyone passed. We can take out the bandits and you can find…_**

Blaise hurriedly snapped a hand out to stop Balen's Sign. She doubted any of the Black Eagles could understand what was being said but, if Bernadetta had learned some, it was possible others had and Blaise had no intentions of risking Chevalier.

**_I already went, Balen._**

Her brother blinked, the only evidence of surprise.

**_I told you I wasn't waiting._**

The classroom had gone completely silent by this point. Blaise could practically feel all eyes on them. Somehow, Balen still seemed unperturbed though it made her antsy.

**_You went by yourself?_**

Blaise thought of the Flame Emperor. Her brother didn't need to know of him. **_Yes._**

**_ And did you find…_**

**_No. _**He didn't need to know about Chevalier either. **_There are monsters in the city. Don't let your students go in._**

Balen was always difficult to read but the look he was giving her now was something new of which she did not understand. **_You are not coming?_**

**_No._**

He nodded, staring at her for another moment as if wanting to say something further. He must have decided against it as he turned to leave. Except, his gaze shifted down and he paused. **_Where is your sword?_**

Oh!

That made Blaise flush. **_Lost it. Haven't had time to get another one from the armory yet._**

Balen blinked again and, in one fluid motion, unbelted his sword, offering the weapon to her.

Blaise shook her head. He was about to go on a mission to fight bandits and here he was giving her his sword. Her lips twitched into a smile. **_You're going to need that._**

**_I have an allowance for my students. I will buy another sword on the way out._**

When Balen chose to insist on something, it was generally useless to argue. So, Blaise accepted the familiar sword, her fingers caressing the well-worn hilt. **_Be careful, Balen._**

Her brother nodded once more, leaving Blaise to return her attention to her temporary students, all of which were watching her quizzically.

"Everything okay, Blaise?" Dorothea was the one to ask.

Blaise smiled a smile that wasn't quite genuine. Something just felt terribly wrong about declining his invitation and yet... did she have any real reason to go? As he had told her, his mission was for him and his students. Not for him and her. Maybe next time…

She strode to the blackboard, scribbling an answer to Dorothea's question. _Yes. He is taking the Golden Deer to Zanado to fight bandits. Just telling me he was leaving._

That among other things.

"Are you to be joining?" Petra inquired from beside a frowning Edelgard.

_No._

Blaise didn't feel much like doing anything else and the end of class had to be near anyways so she forced a brighter smile. _We killed enough time that Manuela shouldn't care. How about we call it a day?_

The Black Eagles were overwhelmingly cheerful at the thought, Edelgard immediately asking Blaise to join them in the Dining Hall if she wasn't busy.

She felt a more genuine smile tug at her lips as she followed the students out of the classroom, buckling Balen's sword around her waist.

~FE~

Blaise struggled to follow her schedule to go to the library over the next couple of days. Following her so-called abandonment of her companions during her last mission, Rhea agreed it necessary to keep her under her father's jurisdiction.

She would have been offended except she had missed being around him nearly as much as she had Balen.

Even better was his apprentice's absence since Leonie was off with the rest of the Golden Deer.

The work itself was kind of boring, Jeralt taking the time to show her the schedules for each patrol and who was on them for the next week. He, apparently, had to keep track of all that as well as notify everyone of their assignments. He also scheduled all the training exercises for the Knights of Seiros, many of which were in other locations across Fodlan.

Blaise mostly just sat in the room he occupied, her mind wandering. She had spent her free-time the first day, writing up her own reports about each of the Black Eagles students which she had then given to Manuela with the hope they could be of some use to her.

The second day and on had little to distract her.

It was one of those times where her father was writing for over an hour with her sitting there unproductively that she determined she might could ask him some questions since the library was a no go.

**_Have I ever gotten lost?_**

Lost wasn't the same thing as kidnapped as Chevalier had implied but she thought it might freak him out to suddenly ask about something she shouldn't remember.

Jeralt's quill paused for half a second, his eyes flickering. "What's that, Kid?" he grunted.

**_Have I ever gotten lost?_**

"Nah, you've always had a spectacular sense of direction," Jeralt stated though notably without looking at her.

He was dodging.

Blaise rested her chin on her fist, leaning forward. **_Even when I was little? Like real little._**

His eyes, a pale blue, regarded her.

She held her breath. Was she being too obvious?

"Yes, even then," he insisted.

Blaise let the topic drop in favor of something a little less obviously personal. **_Do you know the name 'Névé'?_**

"Can't say I do. What's with the third degree, Blaise?"

Okay, definitely being too obvious. She backtracked with a shrug. **_Just bored._**

Wrong thing to say as that got her sent off to the training grounds to take notes on each knight's strengths and weaknesses as she saw them during their drills. For some reason, it just wasn't as fun as it had been with the Black Eagles.

Her father was pleased though when she returned to him with detailed observations at the conclusion of the sessions. Something about bettering the knights' training and presenting it to Rhea.

Blaise was glad he dismissed her for the rest of the evening instead of dragging her along to the Archbishop…

Except it did kind of leave her on her own.

She had been avoiding the Dining Hall since the night she joined the Black Eagles after Balen left on his mission. Being invited one night didn't mean she was invited every night thereafter and she would rather starve through dinner than go in there by herself again.

She knew it was more than a little ridiculous but … it did make a good excuse to go to the library. It would be empty in favor of the Dining Hall.

So that was what she did, entering the library and avoiding the few monks and the librarian that were present on the far end of the room.

What was she even looking for though?

There were rows and rows of books and scrolls after all.

Blaise tapped her lip with a finger as she chose a row at random, simply scanning the titles with a cursory glance.

Maybe something about the origin of crests would have something on Chevalier. Or Rhea had said Chevalier's Resonance was a topic of many scholarly debates. Most of their arguments were likely to be wrong but there had to be some truth in there somewhere. Or maybe she should start with Nabateans in general if Chevalier claimed to be such.

But where would she find that kind of thing in here?

A book on the top shelf caught her attention. It had a title that was like twenty words long, but it included the words "crests" and "beginning."

She would bite, she decided.

It was well out of her reach, forcing her to climb at least three shelves from the ground to have any hope of reaching it. Stretching, it was still barely evading the tips of her fingers. Maybe she should climb up the fourth shelf...

"Blaise! What do you think you are doing?!"

Blaise nearly fell off as she twisted around to find a rather disapproving Edelgard standing at the end of the row.

The silver-haired princess stood with her hands on her hips, face slightly red, complete with a glare that could scare the goddess. "There are ladders to get books off the top shelf. Honestly, I'm surprised the bookshelf hasn't broken and placed you in the infirmary yet," she exclaimed.

As if on cue, there was a loud crack as the shelf she was standing on broke. The shelf she was holding onto followed and Blaise crashed onto the library floor amongst a plethora of books, some of which hit her in the head on their way down. They were very heavy books and she cursed, rubbing her head.

"Blaise!" This time Edelgard sounded far more concerned as she raced over to the fallen mercenary's side. "I swear if you have a concussion and I have to drag you to the infirmary over this…" she complained, trailing off with a sigh. Blaise attempted to wave her concern away, ducking away from her only for Edelgard to snap a "Look at me now!" which left little room for argument.

Goddess… you would think she had fallen off a cliff and a rock had hit her in the head with all this fuss. Still, Blaise obeyed, raising her gaze to meet Edelgard's.

Lavender eyes stared into her, making her a tad uncomfortable as the seconds ticked on. Finally, Edelgard let out a hiss of frustration and sat back across from Blaise. "You probably don't have a concussion," she admitted. "Have you never been to a library before?"

Was this about the ladders? Because, no, she had neither been to a library before nor known they had ladders.

She glanced around at the mess of books. There was likely little luck in finding hers and she pursed her lips.

Edelgard was still ranting, probably to herself. "Of course, Jeralt wouldn't take you to a library. Why would he? If Balen is half as bad as you, I can see why he kept the two of you away from public places…"

Blaise rolled her eyes and began shifting the books around.

"What were you looking for anyways?"

**_A book._**

"Well, which one?" Edelgard questioned, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

Blaise froze for a brief moment before her head snapped up to look at Edelgard. Had she just understood Blaise's Sign? She had only answered with such because it would have been too much effort to search out her paper and it was a rather unnecessary question. Of course, she was here for a book!

But… she hadn't actually expected Edelgard to know what she had Signed.

Edelgard frowned, glancing over her shoulder as if she thought Blaise saw something behind her. She turned back upon seeing nothing. "What?"

Blaise shook her head before she creeped into staring at the princess. **_Nothing._** She picked up a book about fishing, tossing it to the side. **_I don't know which book._**

"You don't know which book you were climbing to get to?" Edelgard was sounding concerned again.

It had like twenty words in the title… What was Edelgard expecting of her and why did a book even need that long of a title for? **_Something about crests and beginning._**

There was silence for a moment and then a sigh from the Imperial Princess. "I apologize. I didn't catch that."

Blaise glanced up from another book that had neither "Crests" nor "Beginning" in the title and repeated the motion slower. That book ended up tossed over her shoulder as well.

"I'm afraid you must be using some words I am unfamiliar with."

That was okay. The fact she understood as much as she had was a significant amount of dedication for the few weeks Blaise had been gone on her mission. She shrugged, offering her a small smile she hoped was reassuring.

The question for the moment was more what was she supposed to do with all the books?

As if reading her mind, Edelgard too scanned the mess. "I will go inform the monks. Perhaps they will know where to put everything until the shelf is fixed," she mused.

That brought a flush to Blaise's face. Were they going to get mad? Were they going to tell her father and Rhea? Shoot! They were going to put her on house arrest at this rate. She fought the urge to smack herself in the head with one of the books. **_Sorry._**

Edelgard must have found her pitiful indeed. "If you would like, you can wait outside and I may... leave out certain details. If they haven't come running yet, they aren't going to know unless I say anything," she suggested.

The idea brought an almost ridiculous smile to Blaise's face.

Thank you, thank you, Edelgard.

Taking one for the team was truly admirable.

And she really didn't need to be getting into anymore trouble around the monastery. She was already lucky Manuela hadn't cared to report the broken desks and blackboard after Blaise's subbing. Honestly, she thought Manuela's incessant teasing was mortifying enough.

Blaise bowed low in gratitude and wasted no time sneaking away from the scene of the crime to wait around the corner for Edelgard. They must not have given her any trouble because Blaise only waited maybe ten minutes before the silver-haired girl rejoined her with her own book in hand.

A Study of Authority and Battle Tactics.

**_You're studying Authority._**

Edelgard tilted her head. "Pardon?"

Blaise pointed to the book. **_You're studying Authority._**

"Oh! Yes, Professor Manuela suggested I do so. She believes I may be a bit…" Edelgard turned slightly red before flipping her hair and looking straight ahead, "... unapproachable."

Blaise snorted with amusement, mostly because it held some truth. Edelgard glared at her, clearly affronted and ready to argue except Blaise beat her to it as she ripped her notepad from her cloak. _It's your stare._

"My stare?" Edelgard repeated, looking at Blaise like that was the most ridiculous thing she had heard that day.

_It's intense. Like you challenge everyone you speak to when they do not want to take you up on it. It's unsettling._

Edelgard stopped walking so suddenly that Blaise had taken several steps past her before her brain realized. When she corrected herself and turned back, Edelgard was staring into her soul again.

Blaise shuffled her feet. _That. That right there can be uncomfortable._

"I make you uncomfortable?"

She wanted to laugh because that was definitely a question one never answered a certain way, truth or not. Blaise ran a hand through her hair. _I'm sensitive._

Yes, that made it all on her and most definitely not Edelgard.

Edelgard arched one eyebrow. "Oh?"

Not convincing enough and now backed into a corner… Blaise needed to learn to let things be.

_ It can be endearing too._

Maybe that would get her out of this nightmare conversation.

_Inspiring and powerful._

Yep, that did it.

Edelgard's frown had dissolved into something more thoughtful as she rested her chin on her hand. "So, you are saying I need to learn when to be sensitive and when to be... intense?" she questioned.

_Yes._

She wasn't even sure that was what she meant but it sounded much safer than the alternatives.

_Or maybe you can get a mask._

Blaise wasn't sure what happened but the next thing she knew Edelgard's book crashed to the ground with a thud. The mercenary just kind of stared down at it, her brain seeming to fail at processing the action. A heartbeat passed and Edelgard ducked after it. The princess was standing again, tucking a strand of silver hair behind her ear by the time Blaise's brain caught back up.

"I apologize. What was that again?"

Blaise crumpled the offending paper in her fist, unable to prevent a light blush as she wrote on a clean sheet. _Nothing. Stupid joke. I don't think you would get it._

"A joke?" Edelgard repeated, blinking before she placed her hand against her head. "How is it that every time I believe I have you figured out, you manage to say or do something which completely upends my working image of you?" she sighed.

Goddess, if she got a piece of gold for every time someone had said something similar, she'd be as rich as a noble. She liked to think it kept people on their toes and prepared for anything.

They didn't seem to appreciate it much.

Edelgard was at least fighting a smile as she shook her head.

Feeling emboldened, Blaise was about to write a comment on how it was a part of her charm when heavy footsteps suggested someone was approaching from behind her. Never one to be particularly comfortable with that, Blaise turned her head, eyes narrowed, just as the figure waved heartily.

Alois.

No one else waved like that… at least not to her.

"Blaise! There you are. The Captain sent me to tell you Catherine has just returned with a situational update from the West Kingdom..."

Catherine?

She vaguely remembered reading something on those schedules about a Catherine investigating rumors of an insurrection or such.

Alois clapped her on the shoulder, making her teeth rattle. "And young Edelgard! It's always a pleasure! You two had better head on over to the audience chamber. Everyone's waiting."

Blaise blinked.

They wanted her there?

Then it occurred to her he said "two." So… they wanted both her and Edelgard?

"Thank you, Alois. We will head there now," Edelgard answered as if she wasn't surprised.

Maybe it wasn't that weird for her being called into meetings suddenly. Blaise imagined that could be common with her status as future ruler of the Empire.

"We really had better not keep them waiting," the princess continued, turning toward her.

Yes, she supposed not.

Blaise waved to Alois before she fell in step with Edelgard. The audience chamber was just around the corner so they were there in less than a minute. Her father, Rhea, and Seteth were already in the middle of the room.

Her father nodded to her, making her feel slightly less out of place. "Sorry, Kid. Catherine just returned as I was giving Rhea our day's report. She stepped out to grab Manuela."

Ahh… that made more sense regarding Edelgard now. The Black Eagles must be getting involved.

"We're here now. Is this everyone we were waiting on?"

Blaise turned at the unfamiliar voice, finding a tall, blonde-haired knight standing beside Manuela at the door of the audience chamber. Catherine stood strong, her armor dusty from the road but in excellent condition. She had a kind of presence that many warriors strove for.

Definitely not a pushover.

"Yes, Catherine. I must thank you for your time after your long journey. I am most certain you are tired," Rhea appreciated.

"Are you kidding? I'm hitting the training grounds when we're through here. Already grabbed Shamir on the way in."

Blaise heard the conversation as it evolved from there.

She just couldn't tell you what it was about.

Every ounce of her attention was on Catherine's sword except not even the sword itself though it was a most unusual sword. Blaise didn't know what material it was made of, certainly it wasn't a usual metal with it's faded white color. Her gaze followed the blade down, noting six fang-like obtrusions extending out.

… were they fangs?

Her face had pulled into a grimace as she scanned the hilt, pausing at the glowing red jewel at it's base.

What was it? How was it glowing? And why did it seem to … glow brighter the longer she looked at it? Why did no one seem to notice?

No sooner had she wondered how bright it could possibly get (it was nearly blinding her as it was) than a flash of lightning shot from the jewel, making Blaise jump. It completely blinded her from the audience chamber, and she jerked her arm to the side in search of Edelgard.

Her hand slid through air.

Nothing.

Frantically, she spun while blinking furiously as if it would bring her vision back quicker. Edelgard had to be there somewhere.

Yet, as her vision did slowly return, she only caught sight of one figure through the spots and it wasn't Edelgard.

It was a woman, rather petite in size. She wore a robe of some kind and her hair and eyes had a greenish hue to their deathly pale color.

Blaise's heart jumped into her throat as she considered whether she was seeing a ghost.

A second bolt of lightning ripped from the woman's hand, hitting Blaise square in the chest. She landed flat on her back, winded and blistering. Blaise scrabbled at the ground to get away from the ghost but, for some reason, never gaining any traction.

The woman's eyes rested on her, narrowed, accusatory. "You-"

There was no warning as a sword appeared out of the shadows, impaling the woman mid-sentence. Blaise could only watch as blood splattered the air and the light in the woman's wide eyes abruptly clouded.

The body jerked as the sword retracted only to jerk again as an arm replaced the sword before it had a chance to fall.

Disgust jolted Blaise from her shocked stupor as the arm withdrew with a pulsing... and red... heart?

… Stone?

… Jewel?

As suddenly as it began, the images were gone and Blaise was back in the audience chamber, eyes fixated on the jewel in the sword.

She found she couldn't breathe.

The jewel was pulsing. It was still pulsing.

She could feel it. Like Balen's, like Edelgard's, like her father's. Its pulse was uniquely it. It jerked toward her only to be forced backward, twisting unnaturally on itself. Back to the sword, back to the jewel, back to… Catherine.

Trapped.

Catherine wasn't looking at Blaise as she approached the group in the middle of the chamber.

No one was.

Blaise's lip curled and she drew Edelgard's crest toward her, feeling her blood burn with fire, as she placed herself in front of the Imperial Princess.

_Defiler._

In some semblance of replication, Catherine was resonating with her sword.

And, yet, the crest cried for release, screaming in her ear for rest.

How was it no one else was even reacting? How could they not see it? How could they not hear it?

Blaise pulled slowly at the hilt of her sword, the blade slipping from its sheath in silence.

_A/N:_

_Thanks everyone for their feedback on the last chapter! Much appreciated._

_To the guest who suggested I post on the other website, I appreciate the thought but it already takes me forever to post on this website (it's taken me twenty-four hours just to post this chapter due to an ancient computer) so I'm afraid I simply don't have the patience to deal with another. Haha. I'm fairly content with updating only one for the time being._

_Fun Fact: I once had someone tell me I needed to slow down and give my characters some time to relax or... not do plot-related things. I may have taken that advice a bit to the extreme seeing as we are 40k words in and... starting chapter two of the game... As such, I feel inclined to mention if you haven't figured it out yet this is like the slowest of all slow burns. However, I do have hope that now that all the introductions are out of the way and general relationships in place... we might move faster. Maybe?_


	9. Chapter 8

Her sword was halfway out, her body naturally dropping into her familiar stance when Blaise suddenly stilled. Her attempts to draw Edelgard's crest further around her had been cut off as if she had hit a rock wall. The power was there. It wasn't leaving her, but it wasn't flowing through her either.

It was stagnant.

A part of her told her she should stop and wonder why, but the pulsing red stone claimed the rest of her thoughts. So, she pulled harder to break the stalemate.

Her sword was three quarters of the way out when a hand wrapped itself forcefully on the wrist of her sword arm.

Blaise jerked backwards at the unexpected contact, thinking the sudden motion would free her from the constraint, but it only led to them twisting her wrist until she dropped her sword more out of surprise than pain.

A second hand shot out to catch the weapon before it clattered to the ground at the same time she felt herself being dragged to the door of the audience chamber.

She resisted.

She had to free the crest from the weapon.

She had to stop the echo of it's screams in her ear.

There was a scuffle but, somehow, Blaise was being overpowered. She was shoved out the door so hard she almost face-planted into the wall. Then she was slammed face first into the wall as someone restrained her.

"Stop it! Whatever you are doing, stop it now!" A vaguely familiar voice cut through the cloud of her mind despite their order being little more than a whisper in her ear.

She thrashed because, damn it, someone had to do something before it did something. What Catherine was doing was repulsive. Why didn't anyone get that? She still felt the ghost of her blistering skin from the lightning even as the screams began fading from her mind.

Ultimately, Blaise was unsuccessful at doing anything more than draining herself further and it was only a few more moments before she collapsed against the wall. Her pull on Edelgard's crest relaxed back into a soft lull, too exhausted to fight it closer. She couldn't even feel the offending crest anymore which had caused this whole problem.

The cold of the stone wall was refreshing, and it helped clear her mind. Even still, she only grew more confused.

She was certain it was wrong to hold a crest the way Catherine was. She didn't know why but she was sure nevertheless. It had a funny way of calling out for help though, attacking her as it had. Was it like a caged animal? Growing more vicious the longer it was controlled? If so, why should she even care?

…

Because, clearly, she was sensitive to it and that was a fair enough reason to care.

She wished her growing migraine would leave her be.

Blaise suddenly caught a whiff of citrus just before she was forcefully dragged from the wall and down one of the corridors.

Still in the progress of recovering, Blaise didn't even know where she was being taken though she did finally get enough freedom to catch a glimpse of silver hair behind her.

Edelgard was the one leading her off somewhere.

They passed a series of rooms with a number of loud voices until Edelgard forced her to stop at one. Finally, the princess let her go and slipped in front of her to unlock the door and kick it open. She said nothing but grabbed Blaise, yanking her inside and shutting the door. There was a click as she locked it behind them.

The entire situation was unnerving and did nothing to settle the growing nausea she was feeling.

Edelgard said nothing to her as she crossed the room to light the lanterns scattered about.

Blaise realized they were in a dormitory. Edelgard's, if she had to wager a guess. Her eyes flickered down to study her arms. Her skin felt raw but there was no evidence of any blistering. She felt lightheaded and unsteady and confused. Very very confused. Maybe even a touch horrified.

Was it the sword, was it Catherine? Something else? What did they do to her?

"What happened?" Edelgard suddenly spun on her, eyes flashing in the faint light.

Blaise struggled to process the question.

Why did Edelgard look like she'd been in a fight too?

"What. Happened?" Edelgard repeated through gritted teeth. "You acted like Catherine attacked you."

She had.

Or something had.

She glanced again at her hot but unblemished skin.

Sort of.

Blaise couldn't seem to make her fingers form any of the usual motions and she had a very strange desire to flee like an injured animal. She took a cautious step away from Edelgard.

Edelgard's fury was fading. Her glare had given way to more of a frown, one hand resting against her cheek as she considered Blaise. Her other hand loosely held Blaise's sword. "Have you encountered Catherine before? Perhaps as a mercenary?" she wondered. "Or maybe just someone similar who reminded you…" she trailed off with a thoughtful hum.

What?

Blaise shook her head and acted on that desire to flee, practically breaking the door down in her effort to free herself. She fumbled with the lock.

"Blaise! Wait."

She jerked the door open and not a moment too soon as she felt Edelgard's hand graze the back of her cloak when she darted out. It didn't sound as if she was being pursued but she still didn't dare slow down until she had run to the full other side of the monastery where she then ducked into an alcove.

Her back pressed against the stone corridor, Blaise vetoed going to her room.

That was too obvious. If Edelgard didn't come find her there then it would be her father or Manuela or maybe Rhea or Seteth.

She gulped down bile that seemed to be rising in her throat.

They hadn't noticed, had they? If they had, wouldn't they have stopped her before Edelgard had? They hadn't even followed to see what was going on when Edelgard dragged her out… How did that make any sense?

Blaise pressed herself harder against the cold stone wall, willing herself to disappear inside it.

Something was very wrong.

She slid down, curling herself into the shadows of the alcove as she tried to make sense of what was happening to her.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, her thoughts having faded away to nothing long before. She had no answers and so found herself ridiculously intent on memorizing the wall. Otherwise she was only aware that it had been quite some time since anyone but the knight on patrol had passed by.

Blaise considered it a good sign there didn't seem to be a large-scale search going on for her.

Still baffling but good, nevertheless.

It had to be late in the night when she gathered herself together enough to leave her safe haven in favor of another location. She couldn't just sit in the hallway forever, after all.

Blaise waited until the knight passed before scurrying off in the opposite direction toward the first-floor dormitories. As expected, the moon was high in the sky, bathing her in it's light as she paused outside her brother's door. With only a quick glance around to make sure no one was present to see her, she twisted the door knob backwards until the lock broke and she forced her way inside.

Pausing, she leaned against the now-closed door and let out a breath she had been holding.

Blaise would wait here for Balen's return. It had already been several days since their departure, so the Golden Deer were expected back any time now.

She hoped he would know what to do, that he could help her lest she do something she'd later regret.

Or worse… Something she didn't even understand she was doing to begin with.

Was this what it was like to lose your mind? Was she not as safe as Chevalier seemed to believe only a week ago? Everything had become so different since coming to Garreg Mach and she knew it was affecting her but to this extent? She'd go ask except she didn't want to chance running into the Golden Deer... and she might be a tad afraid of the answer.

Balen's room didn't have a window so the passage of time was more difficult to track. She didn't dare peek out the door itself nor even move around the room in case someone tried to get inside. She didn't know why anyone would with Balen not here but, still, she sat her silent vigil with her back against the door.

Luckily, her brother didn't leave her waiting long. At least, it probably wasn't twenty-four hours before she heard someone attempt to turn the lock and felt the push on the door.

Blaise shifted her pulse from a distant Edelgard in search of a crest on the other side of the door. It was almost akin to a punch in the face, but it left no doubt that her twin was on the other side of the door. As such, she moved away, allowing him into his own room though she took care to place herself away, but in his sight as he came in.

It wouldn't do for him to think she was an intruder and kill her right here.

Balen stopped in the doorway for the briefest of seconds but then continued inside as if seeing Blaise in his room wasn't weird. Which, to be fair, that hadn't been weird for the twenty years or so previously. Balen dropped his bag beside the door, shutting it behind him, and crossing the room to light the single lantern on his desk.

Blaise watched him. He didn't seem tired in the slightest but then what were bandits to him? She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him genuinely tired. She noted his hair was wet and his clothing clean. He must have stopped by the bathhouse on his way in.

**_ Balen._**

She was the one to respond first. Knowing Balen, he probably wouldn't ask her what she was doing here unless she prompted the conversation.

"Hmm?"

Blaise stilled.

What was she supposed to say again? You know, that wouldn't make her sound like a complete lunatic.

Balen had turned to face her, his head slightly tilted to the side being the only indication he was wondering what she wanted.

**_Did everything go okay with the bandits?_**

She could have face-palmed at her retreat.

"Yes." Balen watched her for another moment before he twisted to rest his sword against the wall. Something about the way he moved suggested he wasn't as relaxed as he seemed. "…They are not mercenaries," he admitted after a pause.

Did that… surprise him? She thought of the Black Eagles class, many of which were far removed from being a mercenary. **_No. I expect they aren't, but they did well anyway, right?_**

**_Yes. _**Balen did nothing more for several minutes and they stood in silence. Clearly, that wasn't all it was. Now curious, Blaise waited patiently for her brother to elaborate. **_Do you remember our first kill?_**

Blaise tilted her head at the surprising question.

She and Balen were never chatty growing up but, even when they did communicate, they rarely spoke of the past. Mercenaries lived in the present, never dwelling on what happened or daydreaming of what might be. Still, she didn't think anyone ever forgot the first time they took another person's life. The second and third and so ons might fade or blend into one another but that first one never went away.

**_ Of course._**

They had been young, too young even to accompany their father on his job, so they had been left with the innkeeper of the village Jeralt had been hired by. It wasn't an unusual occurrence at that time and Balen had his book and she had her paper and her drawing quill which they set up on the main floor where the innkeeper could work and keep an eye on them at the same time.

Blaise remembered it was early morning and the inn was empty save for the three of them.

She had gotten up from the table, wandering towards the kitchens for a glass of water and leaving Balen and the innkeeper in the room. She had gotten her water and was on the way back when the innkeeper tore around the corner.

He had pushed her out of his way, her glass slipping from her grip and shattering on the wooden floor. Later, her arm would bear a bruise from hitting the wall.

Blaise remembered how she watched him run out the back door of the inn.

She didn't know if it was because she was naturally suspicious or if she had a good sense of intuition even as a child, but she had been bothered by the innkeeper's actions. Concerned for Balen even.

Blaise hurried back, not quite at a run, only to find Balen's book on the floor and no Balen at the table. She had followed him out to the front of the inn where she found him next to the most peculiar person. A man with a ghost-like complexion. He was not quite old but not young either with unkempt blonde hair down to his shoulders. He had yellowed teeth, stormy eyes, and a scar from his temple down to the base of his ear.

His face would haunt her dreams for years after.

She knew, even at her age, he had every intention of taking her brother away.

And Balen… dear Balen hadn't seemed to understand or at least wasn't fighting him.

Blaise fumbled with the dagger her father had given her the birthday before, but she had not taken a step after the two when the man began to lift Balen onto the back of an unfamiliar horse. Balen glanced at her, saw her over the man's shoulder, and, presumably, recognized the horrified expression on Blaise's features. His own dagger slipped between the man's ribs.

Blaise was already running forward as Balen was dropped unceremoniously to the ground while the man cursed and clutched at the wound. His surprise was evident as was his fury and he ripped the small blade from his chest, raising it against Balen. He made it no farther before Blaise stabbed hers in his back.

She'd been terrified as he'd turned to face her, raising her dagger again with red and sticky hands. He'd taken a shaky step toward her only to collapse at her feet. He wasn't dead but he wasn't moving either and she remembered quite clearly the turn of her stomach as she'd stared in a horrified trance.

Balen moved first, retrieving his dagger and then returning back to the inn as if they had just gone outside for a bit of fresh air and nothing more. Blaise had followed, albeit more slowly and with frequent glances behind her. Balen was back at the table with his book and Blaise dragged herself to join him. They remained there until their father nearly took the door from the hinges as he burst inside with the rest of the company, no doubt alarmed by the apparent scuffle outside.

Jeralt had silently taken her dagger from her and led her to wash her hands of the man's blood. He never asked her what happened though she suspected he'd asked Balen. She was grateful if that was the case. Regardless, he never left them with anyone outside the company ever again. They began their training and joined on the jobs, starting out on the back lines as simple supply runners until they were proficient enough with their swords to battle alongside their father.

Blaise was pretty sure she knew why Balen was strangely bothered. He'd had to witness somebody lose that innocence of blood-free hands. Perhaps even multiple somebodies.

It wasn't an easy transition to go through.

Blaise had been sick for a day or so, refusing to leave her room despite knowing the company needed to move on to their next job. Even then, she dreamt of the event many nights thereafter.

She expected it was difficult to watch others go through it as well.

In hindsight, Jeralt had started the lectures on focusing on the job and nothing more around the time following the attempted kidnapping.

Kidnapping...

Blaise frowned, crossing her arms against her chest. Assuming she had been wrongly taken once, that meant someone had wanted Balen enough to attempt at least twice. She glanced at her brother, no obvious expression giving away any of his thoughts.

Why would someone want him that badly?

"They…" Balen began before trailing off. Slowly, he raised his hand. **_I told them I would listen if they needed to talk._**

Blaise jerked from her straying thoughts and tilted her head, a sympathetic half-smile on her face.

Balen was a good professor.

She told him as much, but the tension never left his shoulders.

His blue eyes stared into hers and, if she wasn't used to him, it certainly would have concerned her. **_I have never felt the way they did. Even before... during our first battle._**

**_That's okay._**

There was nothing wrong with Balen.

**_I felt enough for both of us._**

At least, Blaise didn't think there was anything more wrong with Balen than there was with her. She was the one who found herself in a fight without even knowing why or how.

**_That's always been my job. You held us together. The same as you are doing now with your students. They couldn't have a better person to talk to._**

She needed Balen to succeed. To be "normal" if considered a bit eccentric.

Because then maybe she would stand a chance at being "normal" too.

Another part of her laughed at the thought. It told her Balen may stand a chance because he, in a way, didn't know any better. He just did what he was told. He could still learn and be a better person. Blaise did know better. She understood the value of life, of the families she so viciously ruined for whatever sum of money she was offered.

She knew better and did it anyway.

"Where's your sword?"

Balen's random question surprised her from her spiraling thoughts.

**_Edelgard has it._**

"Why?"

She felt a paralyzing fear freeze her blood.

It was just a few simple words she had to tell him. Something like, "I don't know what's happening to me."

But then Balen would want to know what she meant by that.

She would have to explain Resonance and how she feared it was dictating her actions. How it connected her to him and Edelgard and Chevalier.

She would have to admit she'd found Chevalier even after she had told him she hadn't.

And how was she supposed to explain how she thought Catherine's sword attacked her and a stone needed help? She'd get sent to Manuela for schizophrenia if someone didn't just put her out of her misery so they wouldn't have to deal with her.

…

She would have to tell him she understood why Rhea made him a professor and not her. She had known even if she'd denied it.

He was a mercenary by birth, but she was a mercenary at heart. He had other options, she had already chosen her path.

She thought of how Balen had always watched her and followed whatever she decided.

She thought of Edelgard having to drag her out of the audience chamber, of Alois dragging her away from the bandits on the edge of Zanado, of the Flame Emperor shoving her away from the maw of the monster wolves only to nearly lose his life from them later.

One would have to be an idiot to put youth in her hands… for her to lead anybody.

Rhea was no idiot and she had chosen Balen before they both drowned in blood.

She kept her hand fisted.

At best, Balen would only worry. At worst, he would confirm her fears that something was wrong with her.

**_She's having it restored. _**

Balen might just buy that. She didn't really wait for him to respond though.

**_See you tomorrow, Balen._**

Blaise hurried out for her own room, passing through the students' second floor dormitories to get to hers quicker. A glance as she passed showed light underneath Edelgard's door. Blaise hurried by only vaguely wondering why Edelgard was still awake this late when she had classes the next morning.

Entering her own room, Blaise went straight for her desk, whipping her dagger out from around her waist. She opened a drawer and shoved the weapon inside before slamming it shut.

It went against all her instincts, but it was best not to have a weapon on her.

~FE~

Blaise didn't retrieve her dagger in the following days. Neither did she return to Edelgard's dorm in search of her sword. In fact, she downright avoided Edelgard at all costs, unabashedly dropping whatever she was doing and walking in the other direction if she thought she saw silver hair or lavender eyes.

She knew she was being stubborn and ridiculously so but didn't once allow that to change her mind.

She stayed busy with her father... or at least she pretended to. Leonie had returned and that meant the girl spent all her free time hanging around. Blaise thought it annoying, but she knew her father enjoyed the added company.

So, Blaise made the effort to not be overtly jealous. For Leonie's part, Blaise got the feeling she was only tolerant of her presence as well.

Blaise, again, wondered how her father thought it was a good idea to take an apprentice for her sake. Did he really not see how that would backfire or was it all just some excuse for him to have an apprentice but make her believe he was thinking of her?

She hated questioning his motives but... well, he had done a good job of leaving out important information most of her life apparently and, seeing the two of them together, she couldn't shake the feeling her father was trying to upgrade from her.

Had she always been such a screw up or did that just start when they came here?

Whatever. She was afraid the answer hardly mattered now.

This particular day, she was back on schedule duty. She had taken to paperwork due to her lack of weapon. Of course, it had raised a few eyebrows at first, but she maintained her lie that her sword was being sharpened. She would have to come up with some other excuse soon since it didn't take long to have a weapon restored but, for now, no one questioned her further. Blaise was surprisingly good at paperwork when she wanted to be, and she found it kept her far away from the training grounds and the knight's hall where she was significantly more likely to run into Catherine.

It was a win-win for everyone.

She thought even Seteth might be pleased by the results of her recent work.

It also freed her father to focus on Leonie.

Blaise just wished he didn't feel the need for them to keep her company as she took over the desk in the Captain's Quarters. She would prefer silence over Leonie's pestering questions any day.

"Hey, Blaise, do you know how old Captain Jeralt is?"

The mercenary had to force herself to unclench her hand before she snapped her quill, giving the slightest shake of her head in answer.

"That's enough, Leonie. If I don't know, how could my child know?"

They were working on shaping some arrowheads at the other end of the table and Leonie dipped her head back down to her work. "It's not normal to forget your own age, you know. It's kind of worrisome actually," she fretted, a bit of her teasing tone dampening as she frowned with concern.

Jeralt shook his head, waving her off. "By the time you start forgetting your own age, you're past the point of caring," he insisted.

"I guess if you put it that way, you've got a point," Leonie conceded, albeit reluctantly.

Blaise chanced a glance up and immediately regretted it. Though her father's voice was gruff, he had a small smile on his face. The kind of smile he was only supposed to give her.

The quill did snap this time.

Not that Leonie or Jeralt noticed.

Blaise swept the pieces of the quill into the floor and leaned over her papers as if that would force her to focus more on them. Except she had no quill to continue so she was really only laying face down on her schedules, willing silence from the pair across the room.

A knock on the desk was the only reason she glanced up.

Manuela stood there with an all-knowing smile and Blaise had to wonder how much she had seen. As if to answer that question, the professor slid something across the desk to her, her hand retracting to reveal a fanciful quill.

Blaise flushed a bright red only furthered by, damn it, Edelgard showing herself from behind Manuela. Her eyes flickered invariably to the window, lamenting it being two stories high.

Despite the laugh the universe was no doubt having at Blaise's expense, Manuela, blessedly, made no comment to her. "Jeralt, dear, Seteth mentioned an assignment extension for my class. Might you have the details? I do believe he said it was a training exercise with the Knights of Seiros," Manuela asked, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

"Right. There's been a change of plans," Jeralt grunted. "Blaise, you have the information over there. The one over in Magdred," he prompted.

Blaise frowned, doing her best to avoid making any eye contact. **_We cancelled the exercise in Magdred. A merchant said the road is being cut off. We thought it might be related to the rebellion in Gaspard, so Rhea wanted us to send scouts instead._**

"My my. Scouts to both Gaspard and Magdred?" Manuela repeated with a click of her tongue.

"Unfortunately, so," her father responded, taking over the more delicate part of the conversation. Blaise was glad because she didn't agree with it. "More than that, it would be a poor use of resources to send a battalion of knights to a location we already have a team scheduled in that area…"

She watched as Manuela's smile faltered, no doubt guessing the direction they were going. "Rhea and Seteth want my class to scout both areas?" Manuela guessed. "They do realize my students are still young, yes? I would feel more secure with an escort," she insisted.

Blaise had said the same thing, but Rhea had been quite insistent. She leaned her chair back on two legs, tapping her new quill in the palm of her hand.

Jeralt's eyes flickered to her before settling back on Manuela. To be fair, he hadn't exactly been pleased with the idea either. "We feel the knights would tip off any members of the rebellion prematurely," he stated in a scripted manner.

Blaise glared at the inclusion. **_"We" as in Rhea and Seteth, specifically._**

Her father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes... Blaise did not agree but was outvoted."

Internally, she grumbled. She was pretty sure she could beat Rhea and Seteth in a fight, so she didn't see why they were making these decisions. They should have settled it through a duel instead of a vote.

"The Golden Deer could go," Leonie suggested.

That seemed to strike a nerve with Edelgard who spoke for the first time since entering the room. "The Black Eagles are just as competent as the Golden Deer. I hardly believe Blaise would find your class any better suited."

If she were to be honest, Blaise wasn't so sure. The Golden Deer had Balen and took on bandits for their previous mission. As far as she was aware, the Black Eagles had had a peaceful mission.

That said, Blaise wasn't about to agree with Leonie, so she made no response.

"The only reason she wouldn't is because she likes the Black Eagles more," Leonie returned.

Blaise rolled her eyes.

What did her personal preference have to do with this anyway? She didn't like the Black Eagles because they could complete missions better than the Golden Deer but because they actually made an effort to speak to her like a person... They also didn't steal her father and brother from her.

Blaise allowed her chair to drop back on four legs, the resulting "thunk" interrupting Edelgard's retort. **_Enough._**

Of course, Leonie didn't know Sign but Edelgard obediently shut her mouth, flipping her hair with an annoyed huff.

Blaise noticed Jeralt and Manuela observing the interaction with unusual silence. Finally, her father coughed for everyone's attention. "The Golden Deer have their own mission at the end of the month hand chosen by Rhea. This one is for the Black Eagles."

"And I have no concerns of the mission itself. I would only prefer to have more support available should the need arise. You have no one? Surely, a simple change in armor would be adequate to keep recognition to a minimum," Manuela insisted.

Her father glanced at Blaise and she knew exactly what he was thinking. The fact that it was a scouting mission and not on overtly dangerous one at that didn't warrant that kind of protection. Not when the students themselves were being trained for battle.

Baby birds had to leave the nest at some point.

In truth, Blaise's association with the Black Eagles may have made the situation worse. Rhea undoubtedly had higher expectations despite their interactions with her being limited and she probably believed Blaise to be experiencing a streak of over-protectiveness.

It was made worse by it possibly being true. She always had been... territorial.

"Perhaps you could spare, Blaise?"

The suggestion from Edelgard made her jump in her seat.

Don't – don't do that. Don't volunteer her for stuff.

"You are always talking about her fighting skill, Captain," Leonie pointed out.

Blaise jerked from her surprised stupor to glare at Leonie. Of course, when the opportunity arose to get rid of her, Leonie would offer compliments and jump on Edelgard's bandwagon! She had to resist the urge to throw her new quill at Leonie's face.

**_I have work here._**

Take that, you two. I decline.

Except her father hummed, his hand rubbing his chin as he considered her and, no doubt, Edelgard's request. "You have done more than your fair share of paperwork…" he admitted.

"Oh, my students would love having Blaise. She does so well with them, and I would personally feel much better with her presence," Manuela agreed.

Blaise wanted to bash her head into the desk. Their safety was why she shouldn't go. She could spontaneously kill one of them under certain circumstances... apparently. She couldn't exactly say that though, so she snapped for some other excuse.

**_My sword…_**

Come on, Father. For once, can't you just agree with what I want instead of pushing what you think is best.

Her father said nothing for a moment, and she knew he was suspicious. Truly, why in Fodlan's name would she make excuses to sit inside and do paperwork? "I can equip you with another sword."

Still, she didn't care how obvious she was being. There wasn't anything special about her sword besides it having been Balen's but she still insisted on it. **_But it wouldn't be mine._**

"Shouldn't the armory be done with your sword by now?" Leonie asked.

Damn it, Leonie. Just shut up already. She didn't even belong in this conversation!

"Actually, I did get it in today." Blaise nearly stopped breathing at Edelgard's statement. This just wasn't fair. Edelgard knew Blaise was evading and even knew why. What was her deal? She should be trying to get Blaise away from them too. "It's in my room. I'd have brought it if I had known you would be here," Edelgard continued.

Blaise finally made eye contact.

Damn that soul-piercing stare.

"What do you think, Kid? Up to it?" her father prompted after a moment of regarding Edelgard. He fixed Blaise with a look she wasn't familiar with.

She only glanced at him before looking back at the lavender irises of the Imperial princess. Edelgard's silent challenge wasn't leaving her much choice.

Blaise admitted defeat.

You win, Princess.

**_Yes, I'll go._**

~FE~

They were leaving that afternoon, so Blaise barely had the time to pack her bag, reclaim her dagger, and eat something before she was meeting with Rhea, promising to listen strictly to Manuela and to protect the students at all costs. Then she was with the Black Eagles outside their classroom. Edelgard approached her as she dragged herself to join them, silently offering her sword to her.

Blaise noted it was shinier than when she had left it and slid the blade in its sheath that was buckled securely around her waist. She was just as relieved as she was anxious to have the familiar weight return to her hip.

The students mingled amongst one another as they waited a few more minutes for Professor Manuela, giving Blaise the opportunity to consider them. She didn't think the students knew what they were getting into.

This mission was meant to be reconnaissance. They were supposed to fly under the radar of suspicious eyes and yet most of them were nobles and they had dressed like it. Not counting Petra, Dorothea was the only commoner and even she was dressed frivolously for a multi-day hike. At least they ditched the uniforms which would have been a dead giveaway.

Still, they may as well have been holding a sign over their heads saying "Inexperienced nobles; Pay attention to me."

Blaise shook her head.

Ferdinand, for one, had a bag twice the size of everyone else.

Her eyes flickered over the rest of them. Bernadetta looked torn between passing out or running. Caspar's excitement was the only thing keeping Linhardt awake…

Holding back a sigh, Blaise nudged Edelgard with her elbow, cutting her off from whatever she was saying to Hubert. **_Have any of them been out in a city before?_**

She flushed and not the embarrassed kind of flush. "Yes. Except Bernadetta, l imagine. Maybe Linhardt."

**_ Without a battalion of knights, escorts, or bodyguards?_**

As expected, Edelgard hesitated answering. "Dorothea and Hubert are likely the only two to have done so for any length of time," she admitted.

Yeah… she thought so.

Hubert eyed Blaise suspiciously while crossing his arms and making an effort to tower over her. "What, may I ask, have I done?" he inquired.

"She wanted to know if any of us had been out without a battalion of guards."

"Ahh..." Hubert seemed to find that conversation innocent enough since he relaxed (as much as she had ever seen him), one hand going to his chin as he scanned his classmates. "Yes, this will be a new experience for many of our class. I do not envy your position."

Blaise didn't envy her position either. Many were in for a culture shock at the least.

She stayed fairly reserved from that point on, bringing up the rear to ensure no one wandered from the group as Manuela led them along the road.

Blaise spent most of her time walking with Bernadetta who calmed significantly as long as she stayed within ten feet of the mercenary. That first uneventful evening, Blaise learned the nervous girl was hands down the best at tent set-up. Hers was stable well before anyone else's as if she couldn't stay out in the open a moment longer. Blaise didn't see her again until the next morning.

Linhardt disappeared similarly, the green-haired petitioning Caspar to set his tent up in addition to his own which the exuberant lad was all too happy to do.

The second evening Blaise joined Petra as the young huntress practiced using a bow, managing to add some fresh meat to their travel rations. The two returned to find Manuela showing Caspar and Ferdinand how to start a fire. Ferdinand questioned the necessity of stone and flint when they had mages to start fires but Caspar insisted he wanted to know.

It was a little concerning to watch, Blaise afraid he might just spark someone's tent on fire, but no such accident happened.

Dorothea took it upon herself to help cook the meat and slide a plate into Bernadetta's tent.

Otherwise, Ferdinand complained about the humidity messing up his hair. Hubert looked ready to kill all of them at any given moment. Dorothea and Manuela told dramatic stories around the fire. Then Blaise and Manuela took turns keeping watch through the night.

When it came to Edelgard, Blaise hadn't been sure what to expect.

She had clearly traveled some in that she had packed the third lightest bag, only behind Blaise and Hubert. Also, unlike a certain axe-wielder and healer duo, she didn't come asking for necessities she had forgotten meaning she understood what was, in fact, a necessity. On the other hand, Blaise caught her on more than one occasion utterly fascinated by something as simple as the nature they passed. She and, by default, Hubert would often detour from the rest of the group just to sit at the riverbank as everyone took a break or watch the sky as birds flew and chattered in the early morning.

They never strayed too far so Blaise made no mention.

Another habit she did notice was Edelgard's aversion of sleep. The Imperial princess would disappear into her tent, wait for most everyone to turn in, and then come back out to sit by the fire. Blaise suspected she would specifically wait for Hubert to turn in before returning.

She had kept to herself the first night, eyeing Blaise with a cold expression as if she expected the mercenary to say something. The second night, Edelgard relaxed and stared at the fire instead.

Blaise simply made a mental note of how that was why she seemed perpetually tired. She could relate on some level, never having been one for much sleep either though she did sneak a few hours in here and there. She hoped Edelgard was at least doing that when she disappeared into her tent early.

As it was, she recognized someone who wanted their space when she saw them, and such passed her time drawing in her notebook by the light of the fire. It was a hobby she hadn't touched in years but her talk with Balen had brought it back to the forefront of her mind. Back before they joined their father on missions, she drew all the time and she was surprised by how much she enjoyed it still.

At some point that third night, Edelgard sidled over, presumably to see what Blaise was doing the past two nights as she eventually commented, "I didn't know you liked to draw."

Blaise glanced up before flipping the page. _I haven't practiced in years. Kind of forgot I liked to._

"Truly?" Edelgard inquired, reaching out to flip the paper back so she could see the half-drawn flower Blaise was working on. "It certainly doesn't look as if you haven't practiced. What flower is that? I do not believe I am familiar with it."

Blaise hesitated, her fingers tracing the outlines of the petals as if they were the actual flower. Her gaze flickered up to Edelgard's face, the firelight occasionally brightening the space enough for Blaise to make out the true purple color of her eyes despite the dark. She jerked her head back down over her book before she got caught staring, swallowing uncomfortably.

It was just a drawing, she reminded herself. There was no color to it and the flower itself came in all colors. Edelgard had no way of knowing she envisioned the pale violet out of all of them. Still, she squirmed.

_Iris._

"Iris?" Edelgard repeated with a thoughtful hum. "I've always been partial to carnations, but I have been wanting to have the gardeners in Enbarr look into adding some more variety," she mused.

Blaise stubbornly stared at her book, pretending to be considering the drawing instead of the girl next to her.

"So why did you stop?" Edelgard queried, making Blaise wince as she was pulled from her thoughts. "Drawing, I mean. Years ago," she clarified.

Blaise forced her hand to steady as she wrote her response.

_Learning to use a sword was more important._

More than that, drawing was a distraction she couldn't afford. Mercenaries didn't have hobbies. They worked. They completed one job to move on to the next one.

Her hand froze, the quill hovering over the paper.

What was she doing? Who was she trying to fool?

Mercenaries, for all intents and purposes, killed people. They didn't draw flowers. Especially not flowers the color of early dawn before the reds and pinks overtook the sky.

And, with that depressing thought, Blaise tore the paper from her book in one fluid motion. She crumpled it and made to throw it in the fire only for Edelgard to reach a hand out. It bounced off her hand, the paper fluttering safely to the ground where the princess picked it up with such gentleness one would have thought it was glass.

The paper crinkled as Edelgard carefully unfolded it. "One of my sisters used to draw," she whispered. "She tried to teach me, but I was never very good at it." Edelgard laughed softly though it sounded sad.

Blaise focused on breathing in and out, unsure whether she was more upset at herself or the fact Edelgard was sad. She dropped her head into her hands and forced her fingers through the tangles of her hair, slowly massaging down to the roots.

Get a grip, Blaise. Now isn't the time for this.

When she felt under control enough to look up, she found Edelgard, her brow furrowed as she too traced the outline of the drawing with her finger.

_You have sisters?_ Blaise tilted her book around, the motion catching Edelgard's attention.

Edelgard frowned and shook her head. "No. Not anymore."

Oh.

…

She didn't have a response for that.

Luckily, it didn't seem Edelgard wanted a response and they sat in silence. It happened suddenly when Blaise had an urge to explain. To tell Edelgard what she'd wanted to tell somebody since she'd come to Garreg Mach. Shifting her book back around, Blaise wrote slowly, uncertainly even. _I don't want to be a mercenary._

She wanted what Balen was given. She wanted to sit by a fire among friends. She wanted to sing a melody and dance on glass-like stone beneath the soft light of the Blue Sea Star.

Edelgard's eyes scanned the words before she looked back at the flames. "In a way, I can sympathize."

Internally, Blaise sighed with relief at the absence of judgement. It didn't change anything. Not at all but it was nice for someone else to know. She tilted her head, allowing it to rest on her arm, and watched as Edelgard's troubled features were briefly illuminated with each flicker of the flames.

She wanted to draw flowers and dream of lavender.

But, she supposed, everyone wants desperately for something they were never meant to have.

~FE~

Despite their inexperience, it was an uneventful journey to their first stop in Magdred, Blaise doing nothing more strenuous than chasing a fox away from their camp the second night. She was impressed with how good on time they had done, but the closer they drew to the gate of the city, the more nervous Blaise grew.

Perhaps nervous wasn't the best word... maybe concerned was more accurate.

Blaise tightened her boundaries, forcing the students to remain closer to each other.

The road into the city wasn't blocked so Manuela made the executive decision to continue inside as they were meant to. The professor implemented a kind of buddy system, pairing Edelgard and Hubert, Dorothea and Petra, Ferdinand and Bernadetta, and Caspar and Linhardt together.

Blaise would have personally preferred switching up the groups so the more prepared students had a less-prepared classmate to keep the latter out of trouble, but she knew the look she would get should she tell Hubert to accompany anyone besides Edelgard.

Blaise remained right on the tail of the group, her eyes scouring for trouble and her hand resting on the pommel of her sword. She had never been to Magdred before, but it was apparent tensions were running higher than normal.

The streets were not as crowded as one would expect. Usually the summer months were the busiest with the warm but milder Kingdom temperatures and the plethora of Spring produce to be sold. There were a lot of people, but women and children were noticeably few in number. In place of the women and children, there seemed an unusually high number of armored guards bearing Magdred's symboI. They eyed them suspiciously and they weren't the only ones either. Blaise could see faces watching them pass by through the glass windows of shops and she instinctively tightened her hold on her sword.

She didn't like this at all.

Rhea was wrong to send them as vulnerable as they were.

As if to make matters worse, the students dispersed amongst the stalls and merchant tents. Blaise felt her heart skip a beat as it became that much more difficult to keep track of them all. After all, the marketplace may not have been as crowded as expected but it was far from being empty.

She caught a glimpse of Ferdinand dragging Bernadetta to a tea stand and of Caspar and Linhardt disappearing through a crowd to the far merchants with weapons displayed.

Manuela appeared at her side, her features more drawn than Blaise was used to seeing around the monastery. She let out a sigh which effectively captured the mercenary's attention. "I know they can defend themselves, but I do hope they remember to watch out for each other."

Blaise glanced around, catching sight of Edelgard on her tip toes trying to see over the crowd. She and Hubert were whispering to each other but Edelgard was clearly preoccupied. A moment later, Blaise saw the top of Linhardt's head pass through the crowd in the direction Edelgard was looking.

That made one student looking out for the others.

**_They will._**

She Signed it more to make herself feel better than anything, but Manuela let out a laugh, relaxing herself. "Well, might as well see what I can find out. Would you be a dear and book us some rooms in the inn for tonight?" she asked, handing Blaise a bag of gold. "And a private dinner room? We may as well discuss what everyone learns today. With any luck we'll be off to Gaspard tomorrow," she added.

Blaise nodded her agreement, glad for something to do that wasn't entirely worry about the Black Eagles students. Slipping the bag of gold into her cloak, she set out down the path for the nearby inn. She passed Dorothea and Petra in line at a clothing booth, the two of them in excited chatter with the girl across from them.

She took her time on the way to the inn, observing her surroundings. Minus the number of guards, everything looked fine enough and an increase in guards wasn't an indicator of anything more than unease. That could be caused by a million things that weren't necessarily violent. Hell, maybe there were important people traveling through or a festival going on somewhere. It was the season for that kind of thing.

Still, she couldn't quite convince herself of it. Whispers of the insurrection and trouble on the road spoke louder. Magdred's strategic placement from a battle standpoint only fueled her worries.

Blaise sped up, wanting to get back to the students as quickly as possible.

Securing their rooms for the night was fairly easy once she found the inn. Luckily, actions spoke louder than words when it came to taverns and inns so a few quick notes to the innkeeper, a stoic, no-nonsense expression, and a bag of gold later and Blaise had successfully booked half the building.

Blaise felt better, knowing they had a safe place for the night.

It was a short-lived feeling as her fears seemed to come to pass.

Her hand was on the door when it was flung open from the outside and people flooded in from the street, pushing her out of the way. Men cursed, women screamed, and cries from the odd child cut through the sudden commotion, making Blaise's heart skip several beats before it began to pound painfully.

She forced herself out the door without waiting to hear what exactly was going on.

The streets were chaos as people ran in a frenzy, pounding on doors in some attempt to get inside. A precious few were allowed in but, overwhelmingly, pedestrians scrambled down the street away from the markets.

Blaise did the opposite and pushed through the crowd back to the markets.

"Blaise!"

Her head snapped around at the call. Dorothea and Petra, hand in hand, were trying to reach her. Blaise glanced toward the markets but then pivoted and shoved her way toward the two Black Eagles. They met in the middle of the street where Blaise grabbed Dorothea's other hand and dragged them behind her. They were jostled back and forth as Blaise tried to maneuver them out of the stampeding crowd. A few minutes that felt much longer passed and the crowd thinned enough to allow for the pedestrians to veer around. With the thinning crowds, a ring of metal on metal filled her ears from the direction of the markets and Blaise finally had the room to draw her sword.

A hand grabbed her wrist before she could charge.

"Wait. We've never..." The normally confidant Dorothea trailed off, her expression something akin to terrified.

It only took her a moment to understand.

She had been right. The Black Eagles weren't prepared for this.

Great. Now what was she supposed to do? It was too late to prepare them mentally.

Her eyes scanned frantically for a solution which she found in the form of a door being cracked open.

Blaise flew across the street in a mad dash that, had they seen her coming, the inhabitants surely would have blocked. She shoved her boot in the threshold before the door closed.

The man behind the door frantically tried to force it closed before dissolving into pleas to spare their lives. She paid him no attention but kicked the door open to allow Dorothea and Petra inside.

**_Stay together. I'll be back._**

She didn't wait to see if they understood what she Signed but turned her back in favor of the marketplace.

"No, I am not to be hiding." It was Petra who argued before she could leave, the Brigidian pulling out her own sword before she faced Dorothea. "People and beast are as one. Calm your heart and do not be worried of this killing. Our friends are to be needing us."

She was the youngest Black Eagle and a foreigner at that, but she stood tall and certain. Blaise respected that and she didn't have time to argue if she wanted to. She nodded to the girl and led the way to the markets. Dorothea was not to be left behind and followed as well though Blaise did hear her question the Church's teachings under her breath.

Blaise believed that fair.

The marketplace, when they arrived, was another kind of disaster.

The Magdred infantry seemed locked in battle with another group. Bandits or some other hired muscle, Blaise wasn't sure, but they weren't an organized force and bandits was as good a name as any for them. Their sub-par organization actually made them more dangerous simply because a lack of a goal and loyalty meant a disregard for the inhabitants within the city… aka, they would attack anyone in sight, destroy buildings for loot, and the like. There were a lot of the second group. Certainly, enough to overrun the defenders of Magdred.

As she thought it, the soldier nearest them lost his battle and the bandits fixated on the three of them. Blaise only had one solution for the two students behind her.

Kill the most so they wouldn't have to.

Blaise charged, meeting her opponents well before they became a threat to Dorothea and Petra. She was quicker than them, holding off two at once. A spell of fire blasted past her injuring a third which Blaise easily dispatched while a fourth slipped by only to have fallen to a combination of Dorothea and Petra's blades by the time Blaise finished with the other two.

She chanced a glance at the students, but Petra was glaring down another bandit threatening to approach, Dorothea poised behind her. Petra sprinted toward him, but he only turned and ran.

"I see Manuela," Dorothea exclaimed so that Blaise jerked back around once she was certain Petra was on her way back.

Blaise had yet to see Manuela in battle and she quickly decided the professor's performance in the mock battle hadn't done Manuela justice. She seemed capable of switching between sword and magic with a fluid grace that left Blaise thoroughly impressed and perhaps even a tad jealous. The professor wasn't far from where Blaise had last seen her, and she could just make out flashes of Edelgard and Caspar as well as the odd magical spell which she suspected came from Hubert. They weren't even terribly hard-pressed since Manuela cleared most of the opposing ranks with her distant magic. That said, there was a group closing in from the far end of the marketplace.

Blaise shoved Petra and Dorothea in the direction of their classmates before she dove into combat with that group. One fell with nothing more than a stab through his ribs as he was busy eyeing a yelling Caspar. She parried a thrust from a second, throwing his swing wide and cutting him down. A third scraped her in the thigh with a lance, forcing her back a few steps as she tried to regroup but, ultimately, he fell from a light spell Blaise thought may have been Manuela's.

Their opponents seemed to hesitate as their two groups reached each other and so many of their companions lay dying.

Blaise was relieved to physically see Linhardt and Hubert which made six out of eight students accounted for.

"Girls! Thank the Goddess," Manuela exclaimed. Blaise turned around to find the professor hugging both Dorothea and Petra. She pulled back quickly though to look them up and down, possibly for injuries. "Have any of you seen Ferdinand or Bernadetta?" she demanded, her relief at finding two more of her students disappearing at fast as it had come.

Blaise internally winced. **_They were beside the tea stand earlier_**. She waved her sword in the corresponding direction, noting, with a twist of her stomach, the stand was now nothing more than broken wood and clay.

Manuela was running in that direction before Blaise could even blink. "Everyone, stay with Blaise," she ordered over her shoulder.

The bandits seemed to have decided they weren't worth the effort and moved farther off, leaving them alone in a silent and broken mess of a marketplace. It didn't stop her from corralling her six students into a more defensible location between two buildings to wait for Manuela to return.

The students paced despite the tight quarters.

"Poor Bernie probably ran. I hope Ferdie is still with her," Dorothea fretted.

"Ferdinand wouldn't leave her," Caspar insisted. He held his free hand over a gash in his arm, blood soaking through his fingers. Linhardt seemed to be on it, holding a glowing hand over it.

Edelgard shifted her axe, her eyes glued to the now-deserted marketplace. In contrast to the others, she stood still as a statue. "I have no doubts about his chivalry. The question is whether he saw and could keep up," she argued. She had a small cut across her cheek of which she was paying no attention to.

"Ferdinand has unparalleled endurance when he perceives his noble duty is required," Linhardt offered. Of all of them, he was looking the worst off. Pale and moving to hold a stitch in his side as soon as Caspar was healed.

"Bernadetta is being like prey. Always running with swiftness," Petra argued.

"Lady Edelgard," Hubert interrupted their concerns, sweeping beside her so fluidly he seemed to glide through the air. "I advise that we should evacuate while we are capable of such."

Edelgard immediately shook her head. "I have no intentions of leaving without our entire class."

Hubert glanced at the rest of his classmates, all of which were now listening intently, before he lowered his voice so Blaise had to strain to hear. "That may not be a possibility," he pointed out.

"I will wait for evidence before making that conclusion." Edelgard's voice was final, leaving no debate.

Hubert acquiesced but only to glare at Blaise. "Professor Manuela is searching on nothing more than an observation prior to the attack. Would it not be more prudent for you to find them?"

Blaise was too confused by his meaning to be offended.

"Hubert," Edelgard snapped.

"My apologies, Lady Edelgard, but is that not Chevalier's specialty? Bernadetta and Ferdinand both have a crest after all."

"That is enough, Hubert."

"Pardon, what is this about Chevalier?" Linhardt inquired.

Blaise zoned out of the conversation, Hubert's words running a mile a minute through her mind. Was he implying she could find them because of their crests? She supposed it wasn't a far-off assumption since she could find those with the Crest of Seiros, the Crest of Flames, and whatever crest her brother had, but she'd never felt any other crests...

Or had she?

She'd felt that crest Catherine was resonating with, but she maintained that was a special case.

Something else poked at her mind. Another memory atop the building in Zanado when she'd… connected with the Flame Emperor's Crest of Flames. She'd felt what she'd recalled as heartbeats and many of them all over the place. Were they different crests? At the time, she'd been more concerned about the one in front of her to think much about the others.

Her gaze flickered to the Imperial Princess.

The Flame Emperor wasn't here but Edelgard was and, for whatever reason, her crest of Seiros felt the same so it should work, right?

Cobalt eyes met lavender and Blaise silently apologized at what might be considered an invasion of privacy of some kind. Maybe she wouldn't mind too much since it was for Bernadetta and Ferdinand. Regardless, she knew Edelgard guessed what she was about to do because her eyes widened a fraction of a second before Blaise drew Edelgard's crest's power to her with as much force as her desperation could muster.

What had once been an odd occurrence in her life had quickly grown familiar. The sudden rush of heat through her veins no longer induced a state of fear within her but was welcomed, rendering her powerful and brimming with energy. Her vision seemed clearer, her reflexes sharper, her body lighter. She felt she could race across Fodlan.

Edelgard was holding back, Blaise knew she was, as the crest of Chevalier began to manifest in the electric air between them yet Edelgard's crest of Seiros did not.

But it was enough, the mercenary bombarded by a series of differing pulses.

They were a jumbled mess, confusing to distinguish anything distinct. It was like a humming in the air or even a buzz. Edelgard's was so glaringly dominant that it drowned everything around them to little more than noise.

She cycled through any potential distinctive features. Different crests had different rhythms, but she didn't know what crest Bernadetta or Ferdinand had nor whether she would know what that crest felt like anyway. She tried distance but really had no way of telling what was close by and what wasn't. Stronger pulses could mean they were closer to her but could also just be a stronger crest in general. She had no real idea what direction they had gone so she couldn't even narrow it down that way.

Blaise was growing frustrated. How could she feel them but still have no idea which way to go?

Come on, Chevalier. There had to be something she was missing.

She heard nothing from her dream Nabatean and was beginning to admit defeat, relaxing her hold on the crest of Seiros with a deep sigh of disappointment. That was when a slight pull upon her crest caught her attention and she snapped Edelgard's crest back to her.

She waited… and waited.

Do it again whoever you are…

There was no way of knowing whether it was Ferdinand, Bernadetta, or someone else. Not with her limited information but it was the only lead she had.

Blaise took that gamble and, the moment she felt that faint draw a second time, she grasped onto it.

But then what?

Rhea had told her to listen to Manuela and protect the students at all costs, but Manuela basically told her to protect the others while she found Ferdinand and Bernadetta. This crest wasn't in the direction Manuela had gone…

But how could she ignore it when there was even the slightest possibility it was one of the missing Black Eagles?

Making up her mind, Blaise rushed off without Signing a word or offering a backward glance.

She tore around the corner of the path the bandits had taken, passing shops and homes alike so quickly they were nothing more than a blur. She took the most direct route which led her from the path and between buildings. She dragged herself up a fence, climbed the rest of the way up the side of a store, jumped down to an extended balcony, and followed it around.

Her impromptu path turned out to be more of a blessing than she would have thought as she was above the invaders. There were only pockets of fighting left with most of the Magdred defenders being incapacitated and the bandits staking their claim by fanning out to raid the area of whatever they desired.

Blaise slipped around unnoticed due to her height advantage and then she was staring down at a most distressing scene.

The bright side to the whole ordeal was her gamble paid off and she found her missing Black Eagles.

That said, Bernadetta was backed up against a wall, clutching her bow to her chest. Ferdinand, a half step in front of her, was brandishing his axe at four bandits closing in on them. He was already bleeding from a location Blaise couldn't quite place from this distance.

Blaise felt another pull on her crest and something akin to a growl rose deep in her chest. What made these bandits think they could attack one of hers?

She crouched, preparing to jump.

When she did, Blaise became a whirlwind of motion. The force of her jump ensured her sword went clean through the closest bandit, his body cushioning her fall. A second turned only to have her dagger thrown into his heart. With two dead, or dying, at her feet, she rushed the one closest to the students. He parried a few rounds of her swings before she slammed a foot into his kneecap, her sword slitting his throat as his leg gave out. She spun to face the remaining man.

It wasn't a moment too soon as his sword was upon her. There was a clash of steel on steel as the weapons met, Blaise only just managing to redirect the man's swing before his blade slashed into her chest. As it was, she still suffered a shallow nick across her abdomen. She dodged under his arm and swept her sword around at his back.

No mere bandit, their weapons met a second time and there was the briefest of pauses.

"Ashen Demon, we meet at last."

Blaise glared at the smirk of her opponent.

It had been awhile since she had heard that name. It was typically associated with Balen, her brother's stoicism and disregard for mercy initially sparking the whispers of demon possession. But then those knowing the name informally often did not know of Blaise's existence and her sudden appearance on the battlefield assisting Balen had scared enough people into believing he could duplicate himself as well. Coupled with her unusual silence and just as deadly skill with the blade, it was not unheard of for her to be known as the Ashen Demon despite its origins with her brother.

She didn't know this man, but it seemed he had heard of her in some form or fashion.

She always hated the name. Being a competent mercenary didn't make her a demon.

…Right?

Blaise broke the stalemate, thrusting her sword in quick succession in the hopes of breaking his defense. Her only reward was a ringing of metal on metal and she grimaced, jumping back to regather herself. He didn't give her that luxury but pressed her own defenses. Each swing she parried sent vibrations up her arm and pushed her back step by step.

Their battle became a dance around each other, Blaise charging with increasing risk to land a hit before retreating out of his reach. She managed a cut into his arm here and a poke in the leg there but nothing substantial. With each miss on his part he swung harder, his blade cutting into the ground and sending sparks in the air on more than one occasion. Blaise felt the rush of his weapon past her head and she knew she needed to do something soon before one of those blows landed.

Blaise was panting heavily while her arms and legs burned when they briefly broke apart.

She noted with growing trepidation their scuffle had attracted another group of the bandits. They were causing no trouble at the moment, too entranced with Blaise and their apparent leader, but she knew the moment she either felled this guy or he killed her, they would swarm and Bernadetta and Ferdinand were still here.

She willed them to run.

Of all the times, Bernadetta, this was it. She'd found them and now she had their attackers distracted. Get out, go, sneak off and find your class. Honestly, now was not the time to stare blankly at the sky or, in Ferdinand's case, at her fighting.

In a moment of frustration, Blaise let in a breath and spun, using every ounce of her magical affinity to throw a series of fire bursts, one at Ferdinand's feet and several at the watching bandits.

Two things happened as she had hoped, the bystander bandits scattered to get away from her, and Ferdinand jerked from his trance. He grabbed Bernadetta and they disappeared down an alley.

One thing happened she had not wanted though she couldn't say she was surprised.

Her opponent used her distraction to his advantage. Blaise felt his sword slicing painfully through her right shoulder, the cold, foreign metal sending her body into a state of shock.

Time stilled in that moment.

The pain, which hit her all at once, made her dizzy and she felt her knees buckle, his blade sliding from her shoulder with a sickening rush of her blood. Her free hand reached to stem the flow, internally shuddering at the sticky warmth.

So, this was the way it was going to end, huh?

Her hands stained with her own blood from a fight she couldn't win.

At least she'd probably gotten the Black Eagles out.

She let out a trembling breath as she heard the click of his steps grow louder as he approached again.

Still, this wasn't the way she wanted to die.

Expecting the worst, she was surprised when, instead of a blade in her neck, she was grabbed by the back of her cloak and yanked to her feet. She made out more shapes of bandits despite her clouded vision. He was speaking but the words didn't register. Something about the Ashen Demon.

All of her doubts flooded her mind in that moment.

He was taunting her even as she bled out, reminding her of what she was.

Perhaps it was due to anger or some act of rebellion at her approaching death, but her fingers somehow found the strength to tighten around the pommel of her sword.

She didn't want to be a mercenary, much less a demon, and she certainly didn't need to be reminded now.

Blaise stabbed her sword through his heart. The stupid, cocky bandit. How dare he taunt her. How dare he tell her what she was when he knew nothing about her and lived a life with no more purpose than her own.

He wasn't expecting her attack, presumably having believed her too weak to be a threat. He still wore his cocky grin as she watched the light fade from his eyes.

How dare he because she wanted to have a purpose. One which didn't involve staring into empty, glazed eyes on the other end of her sword.

His weapon dropped first, the sound echoing in her pounding head.

His body followed, taking her blade with it.

Her hand went back to her damaged shoulder in a desperate act to slow the loss of her life blood. She was already feeling numb and faint. Detached.

She wanted to dance in Zanado under the stars_._

She bet Chevalier knew how to dance.

Blaise took one step away, the thought of collapsing on the bandit's body disgusting her.

Some bandits ran away with cries of "Ashen Demon." Others were emboldened by her weakened state and she knew they would soon be upon her.

She didn't care.

She wanted to see Balen smile, just once, at her_._

Even in her semi-delirious state, she was surprised by that thought.

An arrow whizzed by from somewhere and one approaching bandit fell. Three spells followed, killing another and deterring the approach of any others.

Blaise would have fallen there had someone not caught her from behind.

"Petra, Caspar, Dorothea, if anyone approaches, take them out."

They found her…

Blaise caught a glimpse of Professor Manuela's fur-lined cloak as she was carefully lowered to the ground. Her view was then blocked as Edelgard leaned over her, long silver hair touching Blaise's face as she placed her hand over the mercenary's wounded shoulder.

Blaise couldn't feel it.

She couldn't feel it.

"How is she, Edelgard?"

"Conscious" was Edelgard's sharp reply. "She needs healing," she added with a quick glance over her shoulder.

"Linhardt! Get over here and help me!" Manuela yelled, Blaise just catching sight of them from the corner of her eyes.

She wanted to draw flowers and dream of lavender_. _

She could have done it all, if only_…_

Her hand twitched, the movement enough to draw Edelgard's attention back. She wasn't sure Edelgard could read it, whether her Sign was legible enough, but she tried anyway.

**_I wanted to be a Black Eagle._**

_A/N:_

_Sorry about the delay you guys! Thanks for everyone who checked on me. Basically, my area got hit with a lot of severe weather which took the power out for a while and internet even longer so it's been crazy trying to get this done. I, also, deleted the first draft almost exclusively because it "went in the wrong direction" and had to rewrite it all going in the correct direction. I tried to keep up with PM's on my phone but, if I've missed anyone, I will get back to you now that my internet is back up (Yay!)._

_This chapter got really long and I ended up having to push some of it into the next chapter. It just got too long for me to edit so I made the executive decision to cut it off._

_There is still some severe weather in my forecast so bear that in mind and I would click the "Story Alert" if you haven't already and want to keep updated._

_Now, in regards to Cindered Shadows being released, this story has fallen slightly more into AU than it already was. I don't think anyone is at all surprised by that but I feel inclined to mention it nevertheless. I have not gotten to play it yet (see previous about lack of internet) but hope to soon. I will not say no to any PM's from you guys telling me how Cindered Shadows was because I'm quite sad I've had to wait. :)_

_Fun Fact: Balen told me yesterday he wanted some screen time so you can probably expect some of his POV and the Golden Deer starting around the middle of White Clouds._


	10. Chapter 9

Blaise walked down a darkened path, her hand resting comfortably on the hilt of her sword, prepared as always despite the silence suggesting she was alone. Her boots made nary a sound against the stone beneath her feet.

It was some unknown amount of time wherein none of her surroundings changed before she paused.

Where was she?

It was dark but a natural dark. There was stone beneath her feet and, upon glancing up, stone above her, albeit way beyond her reach.

So, she was in a cavern of some kind. An enormous cavern which must continue on a great ways if the stone structures around her were anything to go by. The structures were of various heights but, even the smallest, loomed high above her. They had straight walls, angled roofs, some adorned with pillars or balconies. Metal intertwined with the stone in places adding a contrast to break up the monotony, especially when exposed to the faint flickers of light.

It wasn't light like she was used to, barely even a shadow compared to an average torch and it bore a purplish hue, but it was brighter than the cavern would have been naturally. Bright enough to see at any rate. It spread along the stone like the web of a spider. It crawled down the path before her and along certain walls of the buildings. It didn't seem to give off heat.

As if on cue, Blaise shivered in her cloak, wrapping it tighter around her as she continued her walk.

If she had to guess, she assumed she was in an underground city though she had never heard of such a place. It was empty, seemingly void of life in a way not unlike Zanado. Except it also wasn't like Zanado because it did have signs of habitation like a working canal which further split into snake-like irrigation tunnels. There were signs on doorways in a language Blaise could not read, crates of goods opened and half-emptied of supplies.

It was as if the people had simply vanished moments before she had arrived.

That was concerning to say the least.

She continued her absent wandering, not entirely sure what else to do on her own in a dark, empty city. She noted large pools of water, something she thought looked kind of like a chariot but without the horses, other kinds of contraptions she had no idea what they were but clearly used advanced pulley systems and other such things she probably should know.

Blaise stopped again, her hands on her hips.

This was such a bizarre place.

"Are you lost, Névé?"

Blaise nearly jumped out of her skin, her hand sweeping her sword out in seconds only to blink owlishly at Chevalier now behind her. The Nabatean, for her part looked as she ever did, though her eyes crinkled with an amused smile.

The point of Blaise's sword tilted to the ground as she returned Chevalier's smile with a rather sheepish one of her own. Her free hand moved to her hair and she shrugged to the question.

Was she lost? She supposed it was true she didn't know where she was.

**_Where are we?_**

Chevalier's smile faded, the woman's gaze turning to scan her surroundings. "It is called Shambhala. The people here identified, or at one time identified, as Agarthans. I am uncertain whether the general populace still considers themselves such or not," she admitted. She nodded her head for Blaise to follow and the mercenary was all too happy to comply.

She was a half-step behind, allowing Chevalier to lead them to the west side of the city. She seemed to have a purpose, choosing darkened streets with little thought which only made Blaise raise an eyebrow in silent consideration. **_You have been here before?_**

For some reason, Chevalier let out a soft laugh but it had an edge to it. She didn't answer immediately nor did she look at Blaise when she did speak. "I have. The place has hardly changed over the years."

She didn't want to talk about it. That much was obvious so Blaise forced her burning questions to the back of her mind.

As they proceeded along the path, there was something else to catch Blaise's attention. Music. It started off as little more than faint vibrations but, as they drew closer, she made out a series of familiar notes. They were faster, harsher, darker, and not quite identical, but similar to Chevalier's melody all the same.

She didn't like this rendition of it.

It made her skin crawl.

Blaise found herself following Chevalier up the stairs of a building to stand upon a roof. They looked upon a magnificent rounded structure. It was open air with pointed torches of the same purple light at equidistant intervals all the way around. It illuminated the crowd of people below, so many Blaise suddenly understood why the city was empty.

They were all here.

In the middle of the circular coliseum was an open space where she could make out figures in some kind of fancy garb. Everyone was watching them. The music was building as was the response from the crowd.

Was this ceremonial of some kind?

She looked to Chevalier to find the Nabatean watching her, a shadow over her delicate features. "Lullabies are often more than they seem. They tell a story, offering comfort and a sense of belonging. So much so, one rarely considers what the words truly say. At least not until it is too late."

Blaise had never heard the words to Chevalier's melody but she spoke them now as if reciting one of those prayers she had heard while at Garreg Mach Monastery.

"My Dearest One, sleep through this night,

for in the morn, the sun will bear it's might.

But one day soon the darkness shall fight,

a storm will be born to rage upon the light.

Come what may, together we will rise

the stars will be torn for the Slithers of the night."

Blaise could only stare at her, her stomach doing uncomfortable twists she didn't quite understand.

What was Chevalier trying to say?

**_ I take it, it isn't a very comforting lullaby._**

Chevalier laughed, a more genuine sounding laugh though it was still clearly strained. "I assure you, the next verse is much worse. Enough so, they never sang it to the children."

**_Why do you sing it then?_**

"Nostalgia."

It seemed such a broken way to reminisce but then, in the grand scheme of things, Blaise knew she understood very little about Chevalier.

The Nabatean nodded toward the ceremony going on before them. "They're mobilizing. They have their pawns in the right places. Their plans are extensive and they have much less standing in their way than the first time..."

Blaise felt her vision clouding, Chevalier becoming more and more of a blur despite her attempt to hold onto this moment.

She fought against the cloud of her mind, reaching her hand out for Chevalier.

Wait.

She had so many questions.

"You must be careful, Névé. If you lose ... there will be nothing left but the dark."

The dark...

The dark was all around her now. No Chevalier, no crowd, no music, nothing. She felt the beginnings of a panic fill her. Blaise opened and closed her eyes but still the dark remained. She jerked upwards, clawing the air in front of her for some sensation.

Excruciating pain jolted her body and she recoiled down... down onto her back with a cry no one could hear. Still, her leg kicked out at some point, hitting an object quite hard which proceeded to cause a ruckus as whatever it was clattered and rolled.

"Blaise!"

The mercenary attempted to turn her head toward the familiar voice but still couldn't make out any shapes.

Suddenly, there was a shifting of fabric and she saw a light. Her eyes instinctively shut at the obtrusive brightness even as she was glad to know she could, in fact, see.

"Dorothea, what happened?!"

"She just kicked the lantern when she woke up. That's all."

Blaise cautiously opened her eyes, narrowing them against the light. As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a tent lying on a bedroll. Dorothea, to her left, was scrambling for said lantern. Edelgard was holding her own in the entrance flap of the tent.

They both looked quite disheveled. More so than Blaise was used to seeing anyways.

She tried to sit up again, to ask them what was going on but, once again, felt white hot pain sear through her shoulder.

"No, Blaise, stay down," Dorothea ordered as she placed the now-lit lantern out of reach of any flailing and knelt over the mercenary. "You'll tear it open, if you keep doing that," she admonished.

Blaise complied but more because it hurt so much than concern over her wound apparently reopening.

"I'll get Manuela," Edelgard offered before another swish of fabric and a dimming of the light suggested she'd left.

The tent was filled with a white glow as Dorothea, her brow knitted in concentration, used white magic. The pain in Blaise's shoulder diminished but she still couldn't think through her sleep-addled mind.

Shadows grew from the corners of her vision, the dark filling her with trepidation.

_If you lose... there will be nothing left but the dark._

Stay awake, stay awake.

She tried to focus on the lantern's flickering yellow light or the white magic but they dotted, dimming by the second.

Blaise thrashed out, knocking Dorothea's hand away in her struggle. She felt Dorothea grab her, attempting to force her to still. She heard her will her to do such before crying out for Manuela.

The Black Eagles professor burst into the tent moments later, Edelgard on her heels, and then they were all around her, forcing her down as Manuela took over the healing. "Shh… Blaise you're fine, we're safe. I need you to quit struggling so you can heal, do you hear me?"

Blaise shook her head, her hand of her uninjured shoulder, twitching in shaky Sign. **_They're coming._**

Manuela sounded distant as she responded, more interested in forcing more white magic through Blaise's body. Still, she humored her. "Who's coming, Blaise?"

**_ Storm. Like shadows from the dark._**

"What's she saying, Professor?" Dorothea questioned, the girl's large green eyes worried.

"Storm. Like shadows from the dark," Manuela repeated. She rested her hand against Blaise's forehead and Blaise shivered at the cold contact.

"What?" Edelgard demanded

Manuela shrugged. "She's feverish and doesn't know what she's saying. It's not uncommon with a wound of this nature. One of you go get some cool water, try and make her more comfortable so she'll calm down."

There was a moment before Dorothea stood and disappeared from the tent.

Blaise was losing her fight to stay awake as Edelgard shifted around into her fading sight.

She wasn't feverish, she wanted to say. It was real, but her Sign was nigh illegible and Edelgard took her hand, interlacing their fingers.

The dark claimed her in that way.

Whether it was a blessing or not, she had no dreams this time and, when she awoke again, she felt marginally better. But only just. She still felt as if her arm had been chopped off and it hurt to breathe much less move. Bernadetta had replaced Dorothea, the purple-haired girl letting out a squeal when Blaise turned her head to face her.

She was dropping what looked like yarn and needles, zooming off and out the tent before Blaise could blink.

Comforting.

She sighed, her head falling back on her bedroll with a slight thunk. She surmised it was daytime, light trickling through the tent and allowing her to see without a lantern.

Manuela swept in after a few minutes, the professor relaxing when she saw Blaise laying quietly where she should be. Her walk was more composed, less hurried, as she crossed to Blaise's side. "I was hoping you would wake up today. Your fever broke early this morning," Manuela remarked. "How do you feel?"

Blaise narrowed her eyes, not gracing that with a response.

Manuela laughed at that while peeling back the bandages that encased Blaise's shoulder, part of her arm, and her upper torso. "You're healing as well as can be expected, believe it or not. I sent Ferdinand and Petra to the nearest town to the South with instructions to find someone to take a message to the Monastery. Ferdie and Petra arrived back no more than an hour ago so we can expect some help in the next few days. You will heal quicker with some actual supplies," she offered.

Blaise could have groaned at that.

A few more days of this? She'd die of boredom if the wound didn't kill her before then.

"Do you remember what happened? Your fever was severe for a few hours there," Manuela admitted.

**_Stupid. Got stabbed._**

Manuela snorted. "That is certainly accurate. While your sword-fighting skills are undeniably impressive, you could stand to learn a thing or two in tactics and use of resources. Can't believe Jeralt allowed you to act so," she berated.

Technically, her father hadn't but she'd never been in a situation growing up where she was responsible for anyone else except maybe Balen and he hardly needed her in this kind of way.

**_Can you not tell him?_**

Manuela stared at her and then chuckled while shaking her head. "You cannot possibly believe he won't notice this," she laughed, waving her hand at Blaise's shoulder.

**_No. Leave out the stupid part. Make me sound more knightly._**

The songstress-turned-professor continued to laugh softly. "We'll see," she agreed. "However, might I suggest you not put much stock in being a knight no matter what a certain someones may say. It doesn't suit you and there's no greater disservice to oneself."

Blaise's lips twitched into a smile, shockingly comforted by the indirect vote of confidence. **_Can I get up?_**

She really wanted to see the others. Make sure they were all okay with her own eyes.

Manuela considered the request, brown eyes narrowing at Blaise as her smile faded into something more serious. "If you can control your impulses and stay still, I –"

**_I will._**

The professor didn't much look like she believed her, Manuela unmoving as she frowned at the mercenary. Eventually though, she sighed and proceeded to patch her bindings back around her. "I'll need to change these in a couple of hours. You can get up until then," she agreed.

Blaise nodded, a sharp bob of her head.

Manuela shifted around behind her, one hand running through Blaise's hair. "Ready?"

Another nod and Blaise used her good arm to prop herself up, Manuela supporting her injured side from her lower back. Blaise grimaced at the uncomfortable pull of her bindings against freshly-healed skin but was quickly sitting where they paused as she fought a wave of vertigo.

Why was it she felt so tired? She had been resting for... actually she didn't know how long.

It took longer to get her on her feet, Blaise struggling to make her legs support her at all. But a few shaky steps seemed to wake them up so, by the time Manuela was guiding her out of the tent, she was more or less supporting herself.

"Blaise!"

She was blinking against the sunlight as Petra, the first student to notice her she supposed, ran up to her and Manuela.

"Seeing you is filling my heart with joy!"

Blaise tried to smile despite the feeling most of her body was burning.

It was certainly sweet of Petra to say and she did appreciate it.

"And just in time for dinner. Caspar shift down so Blaise can sit by the fire," Dorothea ordered.

"Sure thing!" The blue-haired boy practically jumped over, knocking Linhardt's plate from his hands. Linhardt sighed dramatically but Caspar wasn't paying attention to him, instead grinning at Blaise. "Did you really jump from a balcony onto those bandits?" Caspar demanded.

"As I have been saying, she did," Ferdinand answered while Blaise was still processing the unexpected question. He was wiping out a teapot with some kind of cloth on the outside ring of the other students.

"Yeah but I want to hear it from her. Can't believe I missed it!"

"Hold, Caspar. I really must insist I inquire about her crest. The lost Crest of Chevalier is a missing piece crucial to my research."

Her crest…?

Uh oh. Chevalier hadn't wanted a mass reveal…

Blaise suddenly didn't feel so well.

"No." Manuela interrupted before the conversation went any farther. "There will be no talk of that. I will not have anyone getting her worked up. Ferdie, dear, why don't you get her some tea?" she suggested.

"I will be honored to make another pot. I, however, will be required to make a trip to the river. We have used the last of our stores," Ferdinand admitted.

**_It's okay. I don't need any._**

She really just wanted to sit down.

"Nonsense, a trip to the river is necessary anyways. Hubert, would you accompany Ferdinand, please?" Manuela asked.

Hubert grimaced and Blaise suspected the mage was in a fouler mood than usual. He glanced to Edelgard as if hoping she would argue for him to remain but she said nothing.

Ferdinand was already on his feet and attempting to balance a number of large basins in his arms. "That is unnecessary, Professor. A trip to the river to replenish our stores is a task well beneath my abilities. I will return in but a few moments," he assured them. His assurance may have held more weight had he not almost dropped the precariously balanced basins as he turned around.

There were a number of heavy sighs from the group.

"Hubert, it is not a request. Have none of you learned what can happen when one breaks from a group?" Manuela demanded.

Subtle, Manuela, thanks...

**_ You went the wrong way, you know._**

"I went-" Manuela glared and then huffed, "I do believe it was you who told me the wrong direction," she argued.

**_I went to book the inn. Why did you listen anyways?_**

The professor turned a funny shade of red. "Enough out of you." Manuela moved her a little more roughly to the open spot Caspar had vacated where she deposited Blaise on the ground with minimal discomfort.

A plate was shoved in Blaise's lap before she'd even settled comfortably, Dorothea taking what had been Ferdinand's spot on her other side.

Hubert did eventually get up to follow Ferdinand. Bernadetta, sneaking from her tent for food, got caught into sitting beside Edelgard much to her obvious horror. The group grew somewhat more quiet than usual as Caspar, in particular, began shoveling the night's stew and bread in his mouth.

The act made Blaise recognize the hollowness of her own stomach and she turned her undivided attention to her stew. On a normal night, she could rival Caspar in how much she could eat though she tried to be less obvious about it. She'd only taken a few bites, however, before she was quite suddenly not hungry anymore and maybe a little nauseous. It was really unfortunate because the stew was very good.

Pushing her barely touched food away from her, Blaise began to wonder if she should have stayed in her tent after all.

"Professor Manuela, are you certain Blaise should be up? Is she not looking pale to you?" Edelgard asked.

Must have been obvious how bad she felt.

"Of course she is pale. You saw how much blood she lost," Linhardt cut in with a matter of fact tone.

How much blood did she lose?

"Boredom would be worse for her. We agreed just a couple of hours," Manuela promised.

Blaise glanced around the campfire and she became very aware of a tension in the atmosphere she had not noticed before as each student more or less focused entirely on their meal. She wasn't sure what the source of it was but it was going to make this a very long couple of hours indeed. Dorothea was the only one even pretending everything was normal. It was at least more welcoming and Blaise found herself shifting to lean against her who, luckily, made no complaint nor made any attempt to move.

"You're worrying too much, Edie," Dorothea insisted as Blaise closed her eyes.

"Truly? She appears about to fall asleep."

The hardness in Edelgard's tone was enough to make Blaise open one eye to consider her. Edelgard sat across the fire from her, the reflection of the fire in her eyes making her glare about three times more concerning. Blaise twisted her good arm around. **_I'm fine._**

Edelgard did not smile, the crease of her brow only growing more pronounced, but she said nothing.

Blaise got the feeling that wasn't a good thing.

The Black Eagles began to break up around the time Hubert and Ferdinand returned. Hubert, his jaw clenched, paused only to drop the newly–filled basin of water he carried and whisper a few words to Edelgard before he and the house leader both wandered around to the other side of the tents. Ferdinand appeared irritated as well, a vein throbbing in his neck. He apologized and offered to make the tea in a few minutes, instead opting to join Caspar in a sparring session which Linhardt at least pretended to oversee. Manuela disappeared into Blaise's tent with a fresh set of supplies.

When it came to the remaining girls, Blaise somehow found her hair to be the topic of conversation. She couldn't say she quite blamed them since her hair was kind of a mess on a good day. She could only imagine what it looked like after a fight that nearly killed her, a fever, and laying in bed for who knows how long.

Petra raced to retrieve her hairbrush and then her and Dorothea attempted to detangle the mess. Blaise had to refrain from turning around and punching someone when the brush first snagged on a knot, reminding herself they were most certainly being as careful as they could.

Didn't make it any easier to bear. This wasn't a soft caress of fingers massaging through her hair but a violent massacre of tangles which was akin to torture.

Who knew girls were such sadists?

In the end, she couldn't complain though because she did feel much better.

Dorothea hummed as she let go of the cascade of dark-blue locks, allowing Blaise to revel in the freedom of tangle and hands-free hair by shaking her head. "Do you want us to tie it back? It will keep it from knotting while your arm heals," she suggested, leaning around to study Blaise.

Tie it back?

Of course she knew what they meant. How many times had she traveled to a city or village and admired the accessories many women and even some of the men wore? All the colors and shine they used to accent extravagant updos? The most she had ever managed to do was wear a flower in her hair and even that was more of a simple tuck behind the ear than an actual hair accessory.

She frowned. **_I don't have a hair tie._**

Her statement was met with silence and a blank expression from Dorothea, the girl's green eyes flickering to Petra as if to see if she picked up the meaning. "I'm sorry. You don't have what?" Dorothea asked when Petra didn't seem to be any help.

Blaise shook her head for them to forget it. She'd gone her whole life without tying her hair back, she would be okay now too.

"She doesn't have a hair tie..."

Blaise tilted her head at the surprising translation, taking in it's source as none other than Bernadetta still curled in her spot by the fire. She crouched further as Blaise looked at her.

"R- right?" Bernadetta whimpered.

She nodded and the nervous archer let out a "Whew" Blaise could hear from here.

"Oh, is that all?" Dorothea giggled. "Someone here will have something. Petra?"

"I am having great sadness to have only one but it is with honor that I will be giving..."

"It's okay, Petra. I bet Edie has some," Dorothea interrupted as it became quite clear the Brigidian was about to sacrifice her very elaborate braid to give her one hair tie to Blaise. "Until she gets back, how do you want to pull it back, Blaise? The simplest we can do is…" she trailed off, expertly gathering all of Blaise's hair together to hang behind her head.

Petra was already shaking her head. "It will not be stopping the tangles when sleeping," she insisted.

"True," Dorothea agreed. "We can split it into two. Still simple, less tangle-age," she suggested, cutting a finger through the blue hair and, effectively, parting it down the middle into two sections.

Petra brushed Dorothea's hands away. "I am thinking..."

This time Blaise felt her hair being twisted until it had folded upon itself to rest upon the back of her head. She didn't like the restrictive feeling at all and shook it out so her hair fell down her back.

"I think she prefers her hair down…"

"Maybe a braid?" Bernadetta squeaked as Dorothea began some complicated half-up, half-down something or other.

A braid.

Her first thought was of Petra's and she suspected that would be cumbersome in it's intricacy.

Then she had her second thought and Blaise practically bounced as she pointed emphatically at Bernadetta.

One like Chevalier's. Her hair wasn't near as long as the Nabatean's so it wouldn't be quite the same but still she liked the thought. It wasn't as intricate as Petra's braid and would make for a simpler, lighter style while minimizing the effort to maintain her hair while one of her arms was useless. She made a kind of motion, indicating the fall of the braid.

Petra nodded and was already weaving the hair at the top of her head, thankfully not too tight, while Dorothea called "Great idea, Bernie! You don't happen to have a hair tie, do you?"

"Sorry," the archer apologized with a shake of her head.

"That's okay. There's Edelgard now." Dorothea's hand shot into the air for the princess' attention. "Did you bring any hair ties, Edie?" she asked.

Blaise felt Edelgard's gaze bore into her until she found herself ducking her head. Her retreat only allowed her a moment's reprieve as Petra tilted her head back up as she continued the work on her hair.

Luckily, Edelgard had switched her attention to Dorothea instead. "I did," she admitted.

Dorothea leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, a suspiciously bright smile on her face. "Any you don't mind Blaise borrowing?" she pressed.

Edelgard pursed her lips for the slightest moment before she turned away, disappearing into her tent only to reappear a moment later with a box about the size Blaise often saw being sold to hold valuables such as jewelry or smaller such tokens. It wasn't an extravagant box by any means. Wooden with a fine silver clasp but lacking any decorative design. Edelgard sat down in front of Blaise, the mercenary craning her neck to see as she opened the box.

Blaise didn't know why she was even remotely surprised to find Edelgard had a ton of hair ties. Ribbons and silks and elastics. Some were a single color, others multis with designs. Then there were those that had accessories upon the accessories like jewels or more ribbons dangling from the ends.

Edelgard didn't seem to notice, or at least pretended not to notice, as Blaise stared. The princess poked through the box with utmost care, occasionally pulling something out and holding it up to Blaise. The mercenary didn't quite understand why because Edelgard never gave her time to do more than glance at it before she would click her tongue, shake her head, and replace it in the box. This sequence continued a few more times before Blaise could hardly stand it anymore and she did her best to scooch closer so she could poke in the box too. Edelgard didn't yell at her so she assumed it was fine.

Petra followed, her hands still tangled in Blaise's hair as she drew closer to braiding the ends. Dorothea and even Bernadetta also grew more curious as Edelgard took longer and longer to sift through.

Finally, as Blaise was sifting around a myriad of red-hued bands, a flicker of reflected light captured her attention.

Edelgard held a long ribbon in the air, blue in color but a shade darker than Blaise's hair. Flecks of reflective silver were imbedded in the fabric. Otherwise, it was a fairly simple ribbon. Blaise liked it. The rich blue color reminded her of dark waters and the silver added depth. Her hand twitched with desire but she waited as Edelgard studied her and then the band.

"How do you feel of this one?" Edelgard asked.

Blaise grinned and nodded emphatically, earning a softer smile from Edelgard as the princess handed the ribbon over. She was just admiring the not-quite-silken texture when the ribbon was suddenly taken from her grasp. She panicked for the moment it took her to realize Dorothea had snatched it from her.

"Dorothea!" Edelgard chided, her hand snapping out for the stolen ribbon. Bernadetta ducked, her arms over her head.

Dorothea, however, was surprisingly deft and dodged around to Petra's other side. She giggled as Edelgard let out a huff of annoyance. "Oh, Edie... I'm only admiring your sense of fashion. To be honest, I..."

**_ I want that._**

The songstress paused as Blaise Signed the words before she let out a long sigh and offered the ribbon back. Blaise wasted no time snatching it. "A girl can't have a little fun with the two of you, can she? I admit, you're cute, Blaise, but it is criminal to make such a heartbroken face over a hair tie when the result is Edelgard contemplating where to put her axe in my body," she complained.

"I was not-"

"I am needing the ribbon," Petra cut in.

Blaise hadn't even noticed she'd finished with her hair. She thought it would have taken longer with how often she had heard others saying they'd spent ridiculous, in her opinion, amounts of time on their hair. She, somewhat reluctantly, passed the tie over her shoulder to Petra. Blaise wasn't quite sure how she felt about the whole thing once Petra announced her completion and shifted back. It felt weird having her hair contained and she couldn't actually see what it looked like.

"Well, what do you think?" Dorothea demanded.

**_I can't see it._**

"No, I mean, how does it feel?" Dorothea laughed.

**_Weird._**

Dorothea's brow crinkled, Bernadetta once again helping her out. "Weird."

"Weird?" Dorothea repeated. "Good weird or bad weird?" she asked.

Blaise frowned, unable to answer. Weird was just weird. It wasn't good or bad.

"I can be doing it again," Petra offered.

"No," Edelgard assured her, moving to stand behind Blaise. "It looks great, Petra."

"Blaise, how often have you worn your hair back?"

Blaise twisted as much as she was allowed to face Manuela as the professor returned to the group. **_Never._**

Manuela nodded with a knowing smile. "She isn't used to it, girls, but it does look lovely," she complimented. "Now, tell me, were there any women in your mercenary band besides yourself?" she wondered, moving to sit cross-legged beside Blaise.

That seemed like an odd question. Mercenary groups did tend to lean heavily towards men but there had been a few women over the years. That said, they didn't often stay for more than a mission or two...

**_ Not really._**

"So you must have had your pick of the men then... What was it like?"

What was it like…?

"Would I stand a better chance with men if I were to join up with a traveling mercenary band?" Manuela asked.

Ahh…

There was a sigh behind Blaise that she knew to be Edelgard even before she spoke, "Professor! That is hardly an appropriate conversation."

"Simple curiosity, my Dear. We **are** all women here, after all," Manuela argued, undeterred as she leaned closer to Blaise. "Soo…?"

…

That seemed like an oddly dramatic lifestyle change. Maybe that was the way Songstresses were.

She didn't have an answer for her though. She hardly interacted with anyone who couldn't halfway communicate with her and that narrowed the pool significantly. Especially if one added in the fact Balen's mere presence was enough to make even hardened mercenaries steer clear.

In the end, Blaise shook her head. If Manuela wanted something more than what she was getting with the knights around the monastery, mercenary men were probably the opposite direction of where she should go.

She didn't seem to like the answer, the songstress' smile fading. "I see…"

It was kind of sad so Blaise jumped to make her feel better. **_They're not good enough for you._**

Blaise was rewarded with a smile. "You really are sweet, dear."

"In Brigid, we are traveling often in search of skills but our families are moving together. It is being strange to me that men are... most often to be traveling in Fodlan," Petra admitted.

"Did you travel, Petra?" Edelgard inquired curiously.

The young Brigidian nodded. "It was most important for me to find the skills for my country."

Edelgard crossed her arms with a hum. "Fodlan could stand to learn from Brigid. Many nobles never leave their territories, allowing them to remain naïve to the outside world. They are forced to rely on others who are so easily swayed by their own agendas until they neither have the ability to effectively rule or the support to regain what they lost."

Blaise tilted her head at Edelgard's statement which sounded more like a fact than thoughtful musing. She wasn't the only one either as Manuela frowned. "Be careful, Edelgard. While I have no doubts there is truth to your words, you should know a single ruler cannot possibly lead effectively either," she cautioned.

"Of course, but one should surround themselves with those who are like-minded in regards to progress and one will only ever find such if they are willing to search outside the boundaries of their territories, correct?"

"Certainly, broadening horizons will introduce one to more people. However, do not discount what else others have to offer. Different experiences may challenge your view of progress but may provide a perspective you otherwise would never have considered. One can be just as isolated, even traveling outside their territories," Manuela pointed out.

"No offense, Edie, but wouldn't the stuffy nobles in the Empire be more likely to agree with you than the ones from Faerghus or the Alliance?" Dorothea added.

Edelgard shook her head. "I am not speaking of nobles. The presence of a crest is hardly a determinating factor in one's ability to help move the Empire forward."

Blaise was quite out of her element when it came to the nuances of politics but even she had figured out only noble families, the ones with crests, had much say in the way Fodlan ran. Yet, Edelgard was talking very different. If Blaise didn't know better, she'd almost believe Edelgard was implying she would consider commoners to surround herself with.

Yet that seemed… ridiculously hopeful of her. Certainly a measure of selfishness was twisting Edelgard's words in her head to be something akin to what she wanted to hear.

Confused as she was, Blaise was glad when Manuela called her away to redress her wounds. She missed whatever Dorothea had asked as she walked away but she still heard Edelgard's response as she slipped inside her tent.

"If they were the best for the job, yes."

If who was the best for the job…?

~FE~

The Blue Lions, much to Edelgard's chagrin, were the help the Monastery sent them, the other house and Professor Hanneman arriving a day and a half later with a caravan and some supplies.

All of which ended up being for Blaise.

Manuela, Linhardt, and Mercedes, a golden–haired young woman who acted as the main healer for the Blue Lions, helped her into the caravan. Each were on a rotation to stay with her for a few hours at a time as the large group began their march back to Garreg Mach.

She supposed it wasn't so bad. Manuela relayed her personal woes, extending the prior conversation about mercenaries until it got incredibly awkward. She patted Manuela's arm sympathetically anyway. Linhardt slept most of his time in the caravan, giving her some much needed space. Blaise had thought Mercedes would be awkward but the woman had such an easy air to her that it really wasn't uncomfortable at all. She actually did know a fair amount of Sign due to apparently having spent a large portion of her childhood living in a church in Faerghus so Blaise could have a conversation with her though, mostly, Mercedes passed the time telling ghost stories. Time passed the quickest with her.

Interestingly enough, once she'd gotten situated in Garreg Mach's infirmary and her father and Rhea visited, Blaise received an even bigger scolding for nearly getting herself killed than she had leaving Alois and the other knights. That said, it was missing that flare of abject disappointment so she didn't feel too bad about it, comparatively speaking.

She was healing quickly and, by the end of the week, Blaise had forgone the bandages and was able to perform light movement. Nothing like wielding a sword but she wasn't bedridden. She took over control of her hair so as not to require Dorothea to come fix it for her everyday. She couldn't quite bend her arm to brush it out so she continued to braid it loosely.

There was, however, something that was a cause for concern and it had to do with her crest. It was thoroughly impossible to believe the story of her actions wouldn't spread and, unfortunately, word of her crest went right along with it.

Chevalier hadn't wanted her to be so obvious about it and yet it was out, not just within the Black Eagles, and far too late to stop it.

Whispers of the lost Crest of Chevalier floated down the corridors. Questions of what it meant, how powerful it was, did Balen have it too, and the like reached her ears. She, also, had more than a few visitors she didn't know, mostly male with bouquets of flowers. Normally, she wouldn't be bothered so much but, seeing as Manuela would have her head if she left the infirmary, she found she was forced to endure their company… if one could even call them company with how they didn't know how to speak to her. It was quite obvious they wanted something. She actually welcomed Hanneman's borderline invasive tests if it got rid of them.

Yet, it wasn't just the fact the presence of her crest was quickly becoming common knowledge and the potential implications of such that bothered her.

No.

Blaise wasn't sure how serious it was but she found herself surrounded by a constant symphony of crests. Whereas, she'd only ever noted the Crest of Seiros, the Crest of Flames, and her brother's crest with ease before, now she heard many.

They didn't bother her. Not really. Edelgard's and Balen's were still really strong, especially in close proximity, and she hardly noticed any others as theirs swirled around her in the background of her mind. Every now and then, however, someone like Claude might pass her by or Mercedes or Linhardt might check on her and, for just a moment, she might catch its unique rhythm between the lull of Edelgard or Balen's.

The question remained, however, what did that mean for her? She had no desire to flirt with madness. Catherine already kept her on edge, the knight visiting her in the infirmary so that Blaise was forced to clench the sides of her bed until Manuela shooed Catherine away with concerns that Blaise's fever was returning. She was, at least slightly, emboldened to have kept her head no matter how brief the visit.

Ultimately, she had no answer for herself and her instinct that it wasn't that bad would have to be enough.

It was the next week as Blaise was doing some basic stretches when she had an unexpected visitor of whom she actually knew. Hubert insisted he was there to give Manuela a message but made no move to leave when it became apparent the professor was not present in the infirmary. At first, Blaise ignored him, more focused on rolling her shoulder and extending her arm but, as the minutes passed and she continued to feel his gaze bore into her, she raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

"You… intrigue me, Eisner," Hubert admitted. He was halfway across the room, his arms crossed against his chest but Blaise could still feel the chill of his gaze.

It wasn't a compliment.

"Not easily intimidated, unusually watchful, difficult to catch, reckless to the point of unpredictability... I find myself concerned for your well-being. You see, Lady Edelgard has taken something of an interest in you, yet the more I learn about you the less I like."

Her lip curled at the thinly veiled threat as he circled to Blaise's left like a predator readying to pounce. She turned with him, eyes watching every minute movement.

"I am offering you a warning, just this once. For the moment you stand in her good graces and I, however reluctantly, admit I see the advantages you have to offer but, should you prove a threat... well, I shall have to dispose of you."

Blaise wasn't stupid enough to tell herself he didn't mean it. Still, she wasn't about to be intimidated. **_You can try._**

She wasn't sure he would understand her Sign but his resulting chuckle suggested he had.

"Such confidence. I see how you caught her eye despite your unique challenges." Hubert drew close so he now stood in front of her, making every effort to tower over her. Blaise, in turn, stood ever straighter. "For what it is worth, I look forward to working with Chevalier's bearer. She was known as the storm of the goddess, a renowned warrior. If it wasn't for her own foolishness, she'd have written the history books and Fodlan as we know it would have been something different indeed. Dare I say it, better. I wonder if you have the same potential. Only time will tell..." he mused. Just as suddenly as he drew before her, he spun on his heel, his cloak snapping in the air. He was in the doorway of the infirmary when he paused with a glance over his shoulder. "Lady Edelgard's birthday is fast approaching this Saturday. Should you value your life, I suggest you do not disappoint."

Blaise was left staring after him, a myriad of emotions playing within her. Edelgard's birthday, warnings, threats, intrigue and… had he called Chevalier the storm of the goddess?

She felt another headache on it's way and she fell back on her bed, arm thrown over her eyes.

Naturally, with all these thoughts going on, Blaise ignored them all except for one.

Edelgard's birthday was on Saturday.

And, no, she wasn't worried Hubert was going to assassinate her if she didn't meet some unspecified expectations. She just wanted to acknowledge it in a satisfactory way.

Like a friend.

Easier said than done, however. For one, Blaise was still confined to the second floor lest she forget to "control her impulses" and hurt herself doing something she shouldn't be doing. The point being, she couldn't make it to the markets in search of a gift. This was a double whammy problem when one considered her lack of experience when it came to gifts and birthdays in general. She really needed the time to search and think.

Manuela refused her request to visit the markets earlier than Saturday but she did agree Blaise could return to her more usual habits (minus sword fighting) beginning Saturday morning.

It wasn't great but it would work.

Blaise had it planned out.

She would hit the markets as soon as they opened, have plenty of time to pick something, and find Edelgard before evening.

Then Seteth scheduled a meeting that day and Blaise groaned at her misfortune. Apparently, her presence was required.

So she redid her plan.

She would attend the meeting and leave straight afterwards to go to the markets, find a gift, and then Edelgard. She might not have as much time to shop but it would still work. How hard could finding a gift be anyways?

When Saturday rolled around she slumped in the seat beside Balen. Manuela was on her other side, not quite there after an emotional night, Hanneman next to her. Jeralt was on Balen's other side, then Catherine and finally Seteth and Rhea.

They were all gathered to more appropriately discuss the developments regarding the insurrection within the Gaspard region.

Blaise believed it safe to say the attack in Magdred was related in the grand scheme of the borderline foolish rebellion by some Lord Lonato. Hiring some outside muscle to throw a strategically-placed marketing city into disarray was a fair strategy for someone not quite ready to announce a public rebellion. She suspected whatever army he had had likely come in behind them, restoring a measure of order and taking control of the roads in and out.

Balen and the Golden Deer had originally been assigned to subduing the rebellion in Gaspard. Blaise suggested they prepare to meet resistance around Magdred instead.

Others weren't convinced the two attacks were related.

Catherine, for one, found it unlikely that the rebellion she had scouted the month prior would have found enough traction to spread outside of Gaspard, especially in the form of bandits. Seteth agreed and even expected the so-called insurrection had fizzled out on it's own.

Manuela wasn't much help when Rhea asked her opinion, the woman a bit too hungover from the night before and too busy worrying about the students at the time to notice the little details.

Jeralt was inclined to agree with Blaise, though, stating she had been trained just as Balen had from an exceedingly young age for identifying situations such as this.

Hanneman inquired of why she believed them to be related and Blaise went into her spiel, courtesy of Rhea translating, on the tension within Magdred and the merchants' complaints of road blockages which, suspiciously, left out any mention of bandits. Then, take in Magdred's many roads to Kingdom territories and it's close proximity to Gaspard. By all accounts, Lonato's rebellion was a lost cause so why wouldn't he prolong it by protecting his loyal soldiers by using outside muscle to grab a strategic supply city and throw his opponents off the trail? With control of supply lines he would be more likely to induce other Kingdom territories to provide allies, as well.

Blaise could admit, having any sort of victory against the Church was a long shot and, thus, so was her theory, but if he was desperate enough to start a rebellion at all- which he had- then it made it all the more plausible.

Other than that... she just had a hunch.

Something really bothered her about the whole thing. Like how had that bandit leader recognized her so quickly as the "Ashen Demon?" They had never met before, she was certain, and… well, she and Balen couldn't possibly be the only competent blue-haired mercenaries out there. It was almost as if he'd known she'd be there which was more concerning considering she was a last minute addition to the team.

She didn't Sign that thought for everyone.

The bandits had done a good enough job to prevent the Black Eagles from scouting Gaspard so really Catherine and Seteth were working on old information anyway.

Jeralt pointed that out and Catherine did agree that was a fair comment.

Balen didn't speak until right before lunch when Rhea inquired on his thoughts. He had glanced at Blaise, nodding slightly in her direction. "We should focus on Magdred first. If Catherine and Seteth are right, Lonato's rebellion is no real threat and we can safely hold off on targeting Gaspard. Magdred is an important merchant city and many livelihoods depend of traveling to, through, or from it during this time of year. If Blaise is correct, Lonato will be there and not in Gaspard and we deal with him as necessary. End the rebellion, free Magdred."

That seemed to be all Rhea needed to hear, agreeing with Balen almost immediately to which everyone else followed with little arguments though Jeralt did let out a "hmpf."

For her part, Blaise questioned Rhea's sudden agreement when Balen said it but hardly cared, practically on the edge of her seat and ready to bolt off toward the marketplace as soon as Rhea dismissed them.

Except that never happened because Rhea just had lunch brought in as they tackled exactly how they were going to handle Magdred.

Blaise could have screamed her frustration as the clock ticked by. Initially, she'd hoped it would be a quick discussion. After all, who needed a plan anyway? Just run Balen in there and take them out. She had already handled the guy that was more than likely the best fighter around the city. Still worried? Send a batallion of knights with him, his students, send their father. Come on! It wasn't that difficult.

She remained balanced on the edge of her seat, silently willing them to end the meeting, but someone always had a question. Someone always needed clarification... most notably the scholar on the other side of Manuela and, while Manuela was growing frustrated as well, she made it worse engaging him in a debate which quickly devolved into a spat.

As late afternoon rolled around, Blaise slumped back down, lamenting her misfortune.

When she finally was released, it was well into the evening hours. Way too late to visit the markets.

She dragged herself out, avoiding Balen who she knew would ask her about going to the dining hall, avoiding her father who she knew would want to know why she was glaring daggers at everyone who spoke in the meeting, avoiding Manuela who would want to tell her of the previous evening…

Released as she was from the infirmary, Blaise went to her dorm for the first time since she left for that mission with Black Eagles. It wasn't as much of a disaster as she had thought it would be. It was actually cleaner than when she had left, the bed made with fresh sheets, floors and furniture tidied and free of any dust, her lantern filled with oil and ready for use.

Flicking the lantern on, Blaise collapsed on her bed.

Okay. There had to be something she could give Edelgard. At least a little something until she could go to the markets tomorrow. Edelgard would surely understand why she hadn't made it before ...

Blaise rolled over, eyeing her desk where she'd discarded her belongings next to the lantern.

Her bag was falling apart, definitely not a good gift. Clothing-out, medical supplies- no, dagger- Edelgard already had a nicer one, notebook- was it sad blank paper was the best option so far?

With a silent groan, she grabbed the bag and dragged it onto her bed, the idea to rummage through.

A loose sheet of paper caught her eye as it fell from her desk, disturbed from where it had been resting by her violent grab for her bag.

It looked like a letter or at least a neatly folded envelope.

Odd.

She'd never had anyone to write to or to expect anything from.

Blaise rolled unceremoniously off her bed, swiping the envelope up and flipping it over.

_Blaise Eisner_

So it was to her. It had a fancy red seal which she thought looked vaguely like some kind of flower and swirling handwriting she didn't recognize. The envelope itself was of sturdy paper. Not cheap. Official even.

Huh.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she broke the seal, pulling out an equally expensive scroll of parchment with the same swirling writing.

_I desire an audience with you over a matter of great importance of which I cannot divulge as flippantly as through a letter. However, I believe it will be of benefit to you. Should you choose to attend, I will be where we first met at precisely ten o'clock PM on the second day of the Blue Sea Moon. If I am correct in my belief you will have some interest in this letter, I urge you to make every effort to attend. Explanations will be given in person._

_With Névé's blessing, I look forward to your presence._

_-FE_

Blaise zeroed in on "Névé" and then "FE" before flipping the envelope over to "Blaise Eisner." Apparently, her alias name hadn't helped her much but then she couldn't say she was that surprised. She hadn't been wearing full body armor as the Flame Emperor had, after all, and she'd told him she was at Garreg Mach.

She was certain there were other competent blue-haired mercenaries in Fodlan but not so many at the monastery.

She turned her attention to the actual contents of the letter.

The Flame Emperor wanted to meet over a matter he clearly thought Blaise would have interest in. She tapped her chin. Second day of the Blue Sea Moon at night on the rooftop in Zanado… That should be easy enough to make.

Regardless of the matter, she'd show up simply because he intrigued her.

Blaise slipped the letter into it's envelope, once again trying to rein her thoughts back to her Edelgard predicament. She began to put the letter into her cloak pocket when the seal caught her eye and she practically lit up.

Thank you, Flame Emperor! You're a godsend.

Blaise shoved the letter in her pocket and was scrambling out the door in seconds.

She ran very fast, much faster than Manuela would have allowed had the professor seen her, across the monastery campus. It was maybe twenty minutes later when she pounded her fist against Edelgard's door before she had time to think too much about it. Too late, she realized she may have been too enthusiastic.

There was the sound of hurried steps before Edelgard yanked the door open, fixing Blaise with a confused and slightly frazzled expression. "Blaise! Are you okay? Are you not supposed to be in the infirmary?"

Blaise couldn't really answer, her hands carefully holding her bag in front of her so she simply shook her head. Without waiting for Edelgard to respond, she reached into her bag for her present, extending her arm in a silent offer.

Blaise felt her heart beat once, twice, three times as Edelgard stared, a faint flush slowly spreading across the princess' face.

"It's- a carnation," Edelgard stated, her voice unusually high pitched. Finally, she pinched the stem of the flower between two fingers and she smiled, fingers caressing the petals.

**_It's the prettiest one I could find._**

Blaise wasn't quite sure why she'd Signed that and grimaced slightly, even if it was true. A gorgeous red flower to be sure. She assumed Edelgard liked the color red. She wore it all the time.

To hide her embarrassment, Blaise glanced down at her bag and rummaged through until she found the hastily written _Happy Birthday_ paper which she then held out.

"Birthday?… Oh..."

For some reason, Edelgard's smile faded as she accepted the paper.

Blaise chewed on her lip.

Damn. Of course she would expect something better than a silly flower and a paper note for her birthday. Imperial Princess here, Blaise…

**_Sorry. I couldn't make it to the market today. I'll get something better tomorrow._**

Edelgard jerked as if from a trance. "What?"

**_Bad present. I'll get something else._** Blaise reached out for the flower, thinking it best to pretend this entire encounter didn't happen.

"No!" Edelgard jerked again but this time away from Blaise and clutching the flower to her chest. Blaise froze, arm extended. Edelgard proceeded to turn a brighter shade of red before she flipped her hair and recomposed herself to some extent. At least her voice steadied. "No. I- I want this," she admitted.

Blaise frowned, tilting her head, arm still hovering in the air. Was she being polite, pretending it was a suitable gift? **_I can get something else._**

"No, truly, I want this," Edelgard insisted.

Now thoroughly confused, Blaise crossed her arms but nodded anyway.

"Thank you. It's beautiful and a surprise. I didn't know you knew it was my birthday."

Blaise thought of Hubert's not so subtle threat as he'd informed her. **_I heard._**

Edelgard laughed under her breath, eyes back on the red carnation. "Yes, I can imagine a few different scenarios for how you heard."

Blaise's stomach was suddenly doing a number of flips and she had another urge to run from the room. What was it with this room and wanting to run away? **_I- I wanted to come earlier but the meeting was long._**

Lavender eyes fixated on her from over the flower. "You still made it..." she twirled the stem between her fingers, making the petals dance. Edelgard let out a breath that expelled most of the red from her cheeks. A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes. "Do you always keep flowers in your bag to give out?"

It was that penetrating look that made Blaise squirm where she stood. She was teasing her, not unlike Dorothea but in a very Edelgard kind of way. **_No. _**

A pause.

And then,

"…Would you like some tea?"

Tea? Right now? Wasn't it pretty late?

The thoughts flashed through her mind but, looking at Edelgard with her faint smile as she fiddled with the crimson flower, Blaise hardly noticed them. Neither did she care that she didn't understand the concept of sharing tea or know what kind of tea she even liked.

She nodded.

And was rewarded with a smile more beautiful than the Blue Sea Star.

_A/N:_

_More of a filler chapter to tie up the last and set up the next. Bad me, didn't edit it very much. Sorry about that. I expect the next couple chapters to be more big picture plot heavy so that's exciting._

_Question for the chapter: any guesses as to how long it will take Blaise to figure out the Flame Emperor and Edelgard are one and the same? PM or Review. _

_I hope everyone is staying safe. :)_


	11. Chapter 10

_A/N: Warning- There is some light mentioning of faith in this chapter. More on this at the end._

~FE~

Leaving Garreg Mach Monastery to meet with the mysterious Flame Emperor was significantly more difficult than Blaise had imagined that night she'd read his letter. No sooner had Balen, Catherine, and the Golden Deer class returned from Magdred (where they did battle with Lord Lonato and his militia) than an emergency meeting was called, Blaise being dragged off in the middle of the night to the Audience Chamber.

They were informed of the assassination threat to the Archbishop during an upcoming religious ceremony known as the Goddess's Rite of Rebirth.

Blaise's immediate thought was how stupid an idea that was. Rhea may have a spiritual, holier-than-thou appearance, but she knew how to fight, to protect herself. Her walk, her stance, the sharpness to her gaze hidden behind the compassion she bestowed for everyone to see... it all said as much. Even if that weren't the case, the ceremony was inside the monastery, the home of the Knights of Seiros who would, beyond a doubt, be stationed in every corner that day.

Then Balen mentioned the letter that stated such an attack was on Lord Lonato himself and little red flags began going off in her head.

Nobody would have something like that on their person for the very reason someone could find it. If they had found the letter hidden in a drawer in his study or maybe if he hadn't been planning a final stand against the Church... that would be a little different.

As it was, Lord Lonato had the letter in his pocket as he went on a suicide mission against the very people who would warn the Archbishop of the plot?

No.

Someone was trying to be smart. And it kind of was smart, sending out a threat that couldn't possibly be ignored whether it was believed to be viable or not.

As such, Blaise couldn't help but feel they were playing right into the mystery threat's plans, the Knights of Seiros adjusting their schedules to surround the Archbishop that day and leaving their other posts vacant. Training regimens across the monastery were doubled for every person, overseen by Shamir and Jeritza, and there wasn't a moment the training grounds weren't in use. Training exercises were the focal point of study for the students, as well, preparing them to support during the ceremony.

For Blaise, that meant she was either holed up in the Captain's Quarters scribbling drafts of protective measures for the day of the Rite of Rebirth or she was under supervised training exercises. She practiced some light sword fighting to rebuild the muscle in her wounded shoulder, but, mostly, expanded her knowledge of black magic since there was zero chance of her being back to her normal sword-wielding self in a month.

Following an incident where she got a little too excited while training with Alois which ended with the knight nearly succumbing to a heat stroke and Blaise throwing her shoulder out, Manuela decreed her recovery sessions too specialized for the average knight.

That left her in the Captain's Quarters more often than not.

She didn't necessarily mind. She could puzzle piece the knights together to form a half-decent, specialized patrol regimen.

Or so she thought.

Something occurred to her as she wrote and rewrote the plans for that day.

The Church was lacking in knights. Why didn't they have more knights in the Knights of Seiros?

No matter how she moved them around, she never had enough to cover all the bases and she had already sent an order for all to return to the monastery. She knew she could fill in the gaps with the students, but should she really have to? Acting as child knights weren't what they'd joined the Officer's Academy to do.

Blaise kicked back in her chair, biting the end of her quill.

The Church was across Fodlan so shouldn't they have the assets to handle these kinds of situations without recruiting a bunch of green children? Giving the students opportunity was one thing, using them as a necessity was another. Besides, Blaise had certainly learned with the last mission the students needed more support from the knights to be safe and, again, she simply didn't have the numbers.

Which was still weird.

Blaise did something that was borderline unthinkable for her.

She gathered her schedule attempts together and made her way down the corridor to the Audience Chamber. Rhea was there dressed in her extravagant white and gold robes, her hair neatly held back by her complicated headdress as was usual. She was speaking in soft tones with Alois and Shamir. The Archbishop inclined her head in Blaise's direction as she approached and the trio's discussion faded away. Rhea smiled a warm smile which Blaise supposed meant she wasn't interrupting anything too serious. Shamir merely nodded her acknowledgment at the mercenary's presence. Alois was much more excited when he caught sight of her.

"Ahh, Young Captain! Here to give us our assignments? You just tell ol' Alois where you want him and rest assured not a soul will get past me," Alois promised, a grin spreading across his face as Blaise stopped before them.

The exuberance pulled a sigh from Shamir.

Blaise, herself, felt her face warm and so transferred her attention to her papers though she peeked up at Rhea. **_I was hoping I could talk to you._**

To Blaise's surprise, Rhea actually looked genuinely pleased. "Of course. My door is always open, dear child," she assured her before nodding to Alois and Shamir. "I am most grateful for your efforts. I apologize to cut our conversation short, but might we speak more of this in the evening?"

The two knights bowed, Alois more so than Shamir. "Not a problem at all, is it, Shamir?"

Shamir grunted, offering another nod. "I need to get back before some glorified idiot challenges Jeritza to another duel anyway."

Blaise raised an eyebrow.

Someone actually did that?

Moments later and the two were off, leaving Blaise solely before the Archbishop. Blaise was suddenly struck by how tall Rhea was now that they stood in such close proximity to each other. Was she always this tall? Of course, it didn't help Rhea's headdress exaggerated her height either.

Her nerves must have been clear on her face as Rhea's voice softened. "Come, there is no need to be nervous. When you speak with me, it is not as the Archbishop but as Rhea."

Blaise nodded even as she questioned whether that was allowed. Still, she followed as Rhea led her into the adjoining room where they had had tea her second day at the monastery. The little table and chairs were nowhere to be seen and the room appeared to have been rearranged into an office. It had a large desk and a bookshelf that extended across an entire wall, a couple of chairs, and enough lanterns for the room to be as bright as if they were outside. Rhea settled herself into the larger chair, motioning for Blaise to take the other. She did, dragging the wooden frame across the floor until they were across from each other.

"Jeralt has spoken highly of your diligence in perfecting the preparations for the Knights of Seiros on our most blessed day. You have my most sincere gratitude as I know you are not at a hundred percent. Tell me, how are you feeling?" she inquired.

**_Fine. Doesn't hurt much anymore._** She rolled her shoulder as if to prove such.

"I am glad to hear that. It is unfortunate your first time experiencing the Goddess's Rite of Rebirth would be under such circumstances but it cannot be helped," Rhea sighed, shutting her eyes with an almost pained expression.

Blaise didn't quite understand the theatrics. It was just some religious ceremony for something she wasn't even sure she believed in. How it went mattered very little to her as long as she could keep anyone from getting hurt. Of course, she knew better than to say that to the Archbishop.

Green eyes the color of spring leaves fixated on her as the conversation fizzled out. Rhea gave Blaise her undivided attention as she patiently waited for the mercenary's response. Her hands were folded and rested delicately on the desk.

Blaise had a sudden realization that though the shades of their hair and eyes differed, Rhea truly did favor Chevalier. It was an odd and potentially unsettling thought. She fidgeted with the documents she held before shaking her head of the errant observation. Blaise opted to skip the pleasantries and sat the papers on the desk. **_I am trying to make the schedules for the Rite of Rebirth but there is something I don't understand._**

"Of course, I would be happy to shed any light if it is within my understanding," Rhea assured her with an encouraging nod.

Blaise spread out several different attempts she had drawn out. **_There's not enough knights to cover everywhere. How can there not be more Knights of Seiros on the entire continent of Fodlan?_**

Rhea gave her one of those smiles which made her feel very much as a child. "Only the most esteemed and faithful knights of Fodlan are recruited into the Knights of Seiros. You are, however, forgetting our allies. Each territory within Fodlan has an obligation to provide support in return of our own of which we strive to be most generous with. There should be a more than adequate number when all are considered," Rhea explained.

**_Where are they? Is there an order the Church sends out when it needs assistance?_**

Rhea's gaze shifted down as she scanned Blaise's documents. One, in particular, she slid around so it faced her more directly. "My dear child, you are missing nearly one hundred already on the grounds," she admitted.

Nearly one hundred must be the number of students between the three houses.

Blaise frowned. **_The students don't count._**

"Why ever not?"

She suspected such an answer but, somehow, she still found herself surprised. How could Rhea ask that so casually, especially after the disaster that was the Black Eagles in Magdred? **_They're half-trained children._**

... Duh.

No offense to their efforts but who would want to rely on them in a situation like this? Of all people, Rhea should understand that. In theory, it was her life on the line.

"Each of them agreed to support the Church when they joined the Officer's Academy and, I assure you, they knew what that would entail. What better way is there for them to learn, not only from a physical standpoint but a spiritual, as well?"

Did they agree and understand? Really?

Blaise thought of Linhardt who, with his aversion to blood, she highly doubted agreed to any kind of violent altercation. She thought of a boy in Balen's class who was more interested in art than being a knight but joined because of his parents. She thought of Petra and Lysithea, the youngest students she knew at fifteen and fourteen, respectively. Were they even old enough to understand what it was they'd signed up for? Don't even get her started on Bernadetta!

And who cared about the spiritual aspect? Spirituality wasn't going to keep them alive. It wasn't going to make witnessing death easier. It wouldn't ease their conscience so they could sleep at night.

She had seen many grown and self-assured men lose themselves in the aftermath of a battle. Worse was when they are worn down over extended exposure.

She didn't want to see that. Not here. Not to them.

**_They're children. Not knights._**

It was little more than a repeat of what she had already said but what more did Rhea need?

"I am surprised by your fixation on their age. I would have thought you and Balen would understand the benefits that came with training young," Rhea admitted.

She could only think of one "benefit." She and Balen could kill people real well.

Did Rhea really want that for those in her care?

Her father's initial warning chimed in her head. Something about Rhea always having reasons.

Blaise studied the woman across from her, Rhea's expression still a smile but far from reaching her eyes. The atmosphere had shifted in the midst of their conversation and it wasn't a pleasant shift.

"l ask you to consider yourself. You were not much different than the students when you arrived mere months ago. You were impulsive, swinging as a pendulum does between dependency and independence. You knew little of loyalty and honor, nothing of the Goddess, and your skills limited to the battlefield. You have much ahead of you still yet you, like the students, have come a long way. Do you disagree?"

No. She could agree she was different. Maybe even better.

But the change hadn't been on her terms and she couldn't help but feel cheated. Rhea may like her better, if only just, but Blaise didn't and what was the point if she didn't like herself?

Was that what Rhea was doing? Molding the students, and Blaise for that matter, to fit whatever model she envisioned before releasing them to their inherited duties? Would that even be a bad thing if it made them better?

It felt like a bad thing.

"The Goddess loves and protects those who maintain peace in her name. Have faith. Our students will grow from this adversity."

Have faith…

Have faith in what?

Rhea's perception of how it should be? Some Goddess who required such a sacrifice as innocence in the name of peace to gain her favor?

Neither sounded like someone she wanted to "have faith" in.

Blaise nodded anyway.

She didn't think Rhea would appreciate her thought.

Excusing herself quickly after that, Blaise meandered back to the Captain's Quarters with heavy, unsettled steps. Finding herself in this kind of position seemed to be happening more and more frequently. Where she had once had some semblance of control, she now faced pressure and expectations. Her father had declined jobs if they didn't suit them when they were mercenaries but now, if she declined, she just had to watch someone else come in and do what she hadn't.

The resulting helplessness was infuriating.

Maybe she should just leave.

She stopped walking as the thought surprised her. Her leave? Could she even do that? With her communication woes and resonance complications? Without Balen and her father?

At the same time, she was surprised by how little the thought bothered her. At least then she wouldn't have to watch everything play out in a way she didn't like. Maybe that would make it worth it.

And the thought of her life following the same cycle as these past few months was horrifying.

Shoving her half-complete patrol schedules inside the pages of some heavy book on tactics which she then slipped under one arm, Blaise nodded to herself. Maybe at the end of the month, once she'd gotten everyone past this assassination threat, she would take her leave before anything else came up. Or maybe at the end of the year. Edelgard and the other Black Eagles in her class would leave anyway so she might as well too.

Contemplating the thought of sooner rather than later, she made her way to the training grounds which was full of students from the three houses.

The Black Eagles were on the far left, split into two groups and sparring. The Blue Lions were not far with Professor Hanneman instructing them through individual duels. Finally, the Golden Deer occupied the other side of the grounds. Interestingly, they weren't battling in any form but were huddled in a circle.

Blaise raised an eyebrow but whatever. She saw who she was looking for at any rate and that was all she cared about.

She cut a straight path through the sparring students to get to them.

"Blaise! Are you coming to spar?"

The mercenary shook her head to Caspar's question.

"Are you looking for Manuela?" Dorothea asked.

Blaise shook her head a second time, passing the Black Eagles without any further acknowledgment and purposely ignoring the lavender gaze she knew was boring into her. She felt the Blue Lions add their gazes upon her as she passed them as well.

The Golden Deer broke up as she approached, mages and soldiers separating with the exception of Claude and Balen who regarded her. Claude stretched his arms behind his head and grinned. "Finally come to join the best house in the Academy? It took longer than I thought but I knew you would see reason like Teach here." He jabbed a thumb toward Balen.

Blaise only graced him with a roll of her eyes, barely pausing to usher Balen to join her as she continued her walk to a more secluded section of the grounds. He was a step behind her when she stopped to face him.

But what exactly to say? Coming to Balen was instinct but what was she looking for? Comfort for what she was supposed to have the students do? Understanding of why she was reluctant? Did she just want to express the confusion she felt about the Church and the Goddess? Should she tell him she might want to leave?

She sighed, her hand moving to massage her head as if the act would ease all of this her mind was running rampant with. In the end, she did what she did best and stuck to the more immediate and less involved subjects. **_I can't do it._**

The slightest tilt of his head was evidence of Balen's concern. **_You can't do what?_**

Blaise glanced at the busy training grounds, sounds of wood and metal and cries ringing in her ears. In one fluid motion, she balanced the large tome in one arm and proffered the half-drawn schedules to her brother. She waited as he scanned over them. **_There aren't enough knights and Rhea wants to fill in the gaps with students._**

Balen flipped through the documents a second time, nodding to her words. "Do you want my team?" he asked.

No, she didn't want his team.

**_This isn't their job to do. The Church should be able to take care of itself._**

Balen shrugged. "Fodlan has obligations to support us during times of crisis. This is an extension of that," he explained.

There was that obligations word being thrown around again. She was beginning to really hate it and so much for some understanding though she supposed she ought to have known better than to have come to him for that.

Blaise didn't respond at first, wallowing in the declining conversation. Why was it they couldn't seem to carry one anymore?

Okay, rein it back in, Blaise. Fodlan and obligations to support us...

...

Us?

**_ Did you say "Us?"_**

As in like we and the Church?

Another unconcerned shrug and Blaise knew her brother still wasn't picking up on an iota of what she was feeling. And it wasn't just him because it appeared she had missed the fact he identified himself with the Church. **_The Church, Us._** He waved his hand between them. **_Professor, Knight._**

No. No.

Her heart was sinking with each word he Signed. What was she missing with this whole Church thing because there had to be something. She and Balen were raised the same. What did he see in it? What did the general public see?

**_I'm not a part of the Church._**

Blaise expected the silence that followed since it was clear Balen would be surprised by the statement. What she didn't expect was Balen's reaction. He actually looked hurt, if only in the subtle furrowing of his brow and the way he gripped the hilt of his sword. She almost regretted having Signed it if it meant she was the cause of his distress.

Almost but it was such a relief to just admit it. Some strange almost defiant conviction that led the words to flow from her thoughts into Sign.

**_I don't believe in the Goddess and, even if she was real, I wouldn't fight for her. She asks too much._**

Too much for someone Blaise had never seen or heard.

Another flicker of emotion crossed Balen's face before it was as blank as ever. She wondered what it meant, if anything, as the silence stretched between them.

"Professor Balen."

Blaise winced at Seteth's voice directly behind her. She tried not to show how her heart skipped a beat as she turned her head. Had he caught what she'd said? That was a conversation she didn't want to have.

Balen slowly tore his gaze from staring at her to acknowledge the advisor. He greeted him with little more than a nod.

"The Archbishop has requested an audience with you. You should make there with haste," Seteth explained.

Blaise felt her blood turn to ice. Coincidence Rhea would summon her brother after Blaise had criticized the Church's support system to the Archbishop?

Not likely.

Balen gave another nod before handing Blaise's documents back to her. He gave no indication of what he was thinking and, though that was quite normal for him, she felt oddly unsettled. Vulnerable, like she'd said too much.

She forced heavy breaths through suddenly tight lungs as Balen paused to speak with Claude. She wasn't sure how much her brother would tell Rhea, but she suspected it'd be more than she would want to share. Blaise dragged herself back across the training grounds in Balen's wake.

This time there was no avoiding Edelgard who broke from her sparring group to intercept Blaise on her way out.

Edelgard's practice axe dipped to the ground as she rested her chin on her free hand. "You look distressed, Blaise…" Lavender eyes flickered from Blaise to the gate to the training grounds where Balen had followed Seteth out. "Won't you stay and join us in the dining hall? I will ensure Dorothea and Ferdinand refrain from another meal-long dramatic scene of the day's lesson," she promised, a small smile suggesting she was at least partially joking.

Hresvelg. The Empire was formed and blessed by Saint Seiros, the first Hresvelg chosen as Emperor because of their faith. She remembered reading that somewhere.

Blaise had to look away, back down at the book in her hands. **_I have to finish these. _**Blaise flicked the documents as waves of guilt fell over her. **_Sorry._** She slipped by, eyes remaining downcast as she hurried away.

~FE~

_Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Bible, Hebrews 11:1)._

Even the definition of faith was simultaneously simple and complicated. It was like it just was because one said so, but it evaded Blaise.

She read the sentence from the dusty book she had swiped from the library on the way back to her room twice more.

Then again.

The words made sense, the act did not.

She didn't have much longer to contemplate it as there was a knock on her door. A knight Blaise vaguely knew by the name Talry reported her presence was requested by her father. She acknowledged it with a stoic expression, shutting him out of her room so she could return to her desk, slam closed the useless Church of Seiros doctrine, and slide it under her bed. Grabbing her bag, Blaise followed Talry to the Knight's Hall.

Boisterous laughter echoed down the darkened path long before Blaise reached said hall. Talry left her outside saying something about the stables so Blaise was on her own when she shoved open the door and was hit with an oddly familiar sight.

The Knight's Hall was stuffy and warm from a combination of the raging fireplace and the large number of knights in such a small space. The smell of mead and sweat hit her with dizzying force while the laughter from crude jokes and calls for more drinks was almost deafening.

The knights were like mercenaries in a tavern after a difficult job and her father was right in the middle of it. Jeralt was never one to get too rowdy himself, preferring to bask in the atmosphere with mug after mug of whatever drink he desired.

Blaise slipped through the crowd with the ease of someone who had been doing this from the time they could walk. No one approached her, suggesting she had yet to lose her acquired skill of sneaking under the radar in the presence of drunken men. Her father didn't seem to notice her until she stood right at his shoulder.

"There you are, Kid," Jeralt greeted. He pushed his mug into the middle of the table as he stood to his feet beside Blaise. "Take a walk with me," he prompted, nodding for her to follow him.

Blaise did so, the two of them leaving the disaster that was the Knight's Hall in favor of the deserted grounds of the monastery. Her father said nothing and, as the sounds of the knights' celebrations faded into the distance, Blaise noticed her father changed direction for the training grounds. The training grounds weren't empty with too many people needing to hone their fighting skills before the end of the Blue Sea Moon, but it was certainly less crowded than during the day.

Jeralt approached the masked Jeritza who must be the sole supervisor at this time as Blaise saw no sign of Shamir. He stood as a spectre, blonde hair and pale skin blanched by the light of the moon and furthered by the mask he wore. Expressionless and silent. "My child and I would like to spar," Jeralt explained, waving a hand toward Blaise beside him.

Jeritza barely turned his head and nodded. "The West is open," he allowed.

They stepped around him, Blaise beginning to feel a wave of adrenaline. When was the last time she had sparred with her father? It was certainly well before they had come here. They forewent the training weapons in favor of real steel.

Blaise took a sword as did her father. Though he typically favored the lance, he was an expert of any weapon Blaise had ever seen him hold. They took a moment to run a practice swing or two so as to get a feel for the weight and balance of the swords before they stood across from each other.

"Mind your shoulder, Kid," was the only warning he gave before his sword came crashing down on her.

His movement, though powerful, was purposely slow, giving Blaise ample time to dodge out of the way and charge. Her sword clipped his and he twisted the blade so she was forced harmlessly by, sparks from steel on steel lighting the dark.

The beginning of a sparring match was critical for Blaise when it came to Balen and her father. They were stronger than her, forcing her to rely on her speed which was at its best early on. As such, Blaise barely paused to pivot, and she was back on her father attempting to break through his defenses. He met each strike with practiced ease.

"Your brother mentioned being worried about you," Jeralt stated.

Blaise froze and, in the blink of an eye, the hilt of her father's sword jabbed into her stomach. Pulled as it was from being a full-force blow, Blaise still lost her balance and ended up flat on her back. This happened quite frequently when she fought her father and she wondered why she enjoyed sparring with him at all.

His foot stepped on the end of her blade, effectively ending round one in short order. "Distraction is what nearly got you killed, Blaise. Pay attention," he berated, offering her a hand up.

Blaise grimaced at the criticism over what she thought was a dirty move but accepted the hand up. He was right, after all. He had always said wandering thoughts were dangerous and letting such things get to her or surprise her would get her killed.

Jeralt gave her an affectionate pat on the back that made her stumble a step. "You can't help those brats if you're dead. They had to come back for you, didn't they?"

Another cruel reminder.

**_Yes._**

She avoided looking at him, instead kneeling to pick up her sword.

"Now, what's this Balen's been telling me of you arguing with Rhea about the students working during the Rite of Rebirth?"

She was arguing with Rhea? Figures.

Blaise rolled her eyes. **_Nothing._**

Now irritated by the thought of Balen and Rhea gossiping about her, Blaise swung her sword with little thought to tactics just to hear the sharp clang as their swords met. Once. Twice. Three times. Jeralt made no move to retaliate, only meeting her strikes as they came. This continued for several minutes until, panting from the exertion, Blaise jumped back out of reach.

The silence from her father frustrated her further.

**_It's not their job._**

"Some might argue that."

She shot him a nasty look. **_Rhea has no right to force military duties in exchange for education._**

Jeralt made no comment for several moments as Blaise leapt back at him, her blows stronger still if more reckless. It was a good thing her father didn't seem to have any desire to legitimately spar or she no doubt would be on her back again. Finally, as Blaise lost her momentum and doubled over for breath, he sighed.

"It's okay to admit what happened in Magdred was hard for you. When we were mercenaries, you were never responsible for nor were you fond of anyone besides Balen." Blaise straightened but continued to stare down at the ground, blinking furiously, until she felt her father's hand on her shoulder while his other hand tilted her face up to look at him. "I once thought you could be safer away from battle until that day I returned from my mission to find a man's body in a pool of blood outside the inn I had left you at. I learned that day it did not matter whether you were far removed or right beside me. I could not protect you forever. The best I could do was teach you to protect yourself."

She knew what he was saying but the thought still made her chest tighten with fear and grief. What had Magdred done to her that this would bother her so?

**_Did it hurt? When you let us-?_**

Because she did hurt, and she didn't know if she should.

"About as much as it did that moment before I barged into the inn to see you and Balen unharmed. It's never easy and Lady Rhea may not have the best reasoning but that doesn't mean there isn't a benefit. Those brats are nobles. They will always be targets to someone."

The thought was sad and painful and, frankly, unfair.

**_Just because it is, doesn't mean it should be that way._**

Jeralt chuckled softly, squeezing her shoulder. "Your mother would say something like that," he admitted. The mention of her mother jolted Blaise like a bolt of lightning and she searched her father's expression, begging for anything else, but he was already turning away to return the sword to the stocks. Blaise was slumping in disappointment when he turned back, a flicker of hope returning in that moment. "Do you want me to finish the patrols?" he asked gently.

Blaise felt her disappointment return full force, not to mention a feeling of abject failure when she thought of those documents sitting on her desk. The one thing she was able to do so far, and she had failed this time. Still, Blaise nodded, hoping her father didn't see the dejection.

"I will pick them up tomorrow. Heal, rest, and, unless you tell me otherwise, I'll stick you with those brats you like so much," he promised.

She didn't respond and her father eventually walked away. Only then did Blaise move to return her sword, throwing it among the others with an audible clang that seemed to echo in her head.

Pathetic. Beaten by a bunch of papers.

She wondered if the so-called goddess was laughing at her.

Blaise glanced to where her father had gone and couldn't help but wonder if her mother had believed in the goddess. Would she be as disappointed in her daughter's failures as Blaise was?

It was due to these thoughts that Blaise was glad when the day did finally come around to meet with the Flame Emperor. She was beyond desperate for a distraction but was forced to wait for the cover of darkness before slipping off the grounds for Zanado lest she get caught by all the extra training and patrols.

Blaise crossed the main bridge this time, her hand trailing the intricate carvings amidst the white stone railings. For all intents and purposes, the outer portions of the city were empty. Evidence of the invading bandits had long washed away with rain and she saw no sign of the monster wolves they had seen inside the city previously.

She was the first one to arrive, sitting cross-legged in the corner of the roof with her notebook resting on the stone before her. Zanado didn't feel as peaceful as it normally did, the air around Blaise heavy and oppressive despite the beautiful, clear night. Distanced as she was from Balen and Edelgard, the rhythms of crests made her antsy and she soon found herself pacing up and down the roof.

It all changed when he arrived, his armor reflecting the light of the Blue Sea Star as the warp spell diminished into darkness. Blaise stopped pacing, the annoyances of the crests gone as suddenly as they arrived, and turned to face the red and white mask expectantly.

Despite the light of the stars, he was still bathed in shadows, a grim warrior to be sure with his large axe strapped to the back of his armor. Certainly, most would flee at the sight.

"You chose to come after all, Névé," the robotic voice offered as a greeting.

Blaise didn't smile but turned on her heel to swipe up her notebook. Her eyes peeked over the top of the pages to look at the warrior, considering the response she wanted to give.

The Flame Emperor beat her to it, however, taking one grand step forward. It was authoritative and Blaise circled to the side, deferring yet cautious. "I have a proposition for you. You frequent Garreg Mach Monastery, do you not?" Blaise nodded shortly though she suspected it was a rhetorical question considering he had gotten that letter to her somehow. "I will be conducting business there on the twenty-sixth of the Blue Sea Moon. I ask that you stand down." Abruptly, the Flame Emperor reached into his own cloak and, with a flick of his wrist, a bag fell at Blaise's feet.

The mercenary nudged it with the toe of her boot, noting the distinct clink of coins even before they spilled over the edge onto the building's roof.

Gold. A lot of gold.

The Flame Emperor was attempting to pay her a small fortune to stay out of his way on the Goddess's Rite of Rebirth.

… which meant a lot of things that weren't in her favor.

Damn. She just wasn't having any luck.

Blaise actually wanted to laugh at her own misfortune. And she did, a humorless, soundless laugh as she tossed her notebook into the corner of the roof and proceeded to run a hand through her hair. She half-expected the Flame Emperor to cut his axe into her back if only because there was little doubt he was questioning her sanity.

Who was he to think he could just show up and tell her to stand by while he did goddess knows what?

Interestingly, however, the Flame Emperor did not bury his axe in her back yet but shifted only to cross his arms. "I ask that you think carefully about your options before making a decision. I would rather not have you as an enemy and I do believe you will find my endgame more beneficial than anything the Archbishop will be willing to give you, Névé," he stated, somehow making his words sound both as a warning and as friendly advice.

Blaise faltered, curious despite herself.

Her guilt multiplied, knowing she shouldn't even be considering his words.

The Flame Emperor must have noticed she was at least contemplating the thought because he continued, "What is it I can offer you that would convince you? More gold? I can give you enough you could retire wherever you wish," he offered, nodding to the weapon at her hip. "Certainly enough you would have no need to touch that sword again should that be what you desire."

She actually flinched. How did he even know about that desire?

More curious, why was he offering in the first place? Even if he didn't want her as an enemy it seemed he was going through an awful lot of trouble for her, meeting her here tonight, and offering her a lot of gold.

Blaise swiped her notebook back up and ripped out a page, but she didn't even know what to write. Finally, she settled on the only thing she could pinpoint about herself. _I will not leave the students there to be caught up in the middle of whatever is going on between you and the Archbishop. It is not their fight._

"The students?" There was a sharp laugh from the Flame Emperor. "If that is your only concern, allow me to ease your worries. I simply wish to lay bare the lies the Church spreads in order to maintain their control of Fodlan. There need not be violence at all."

That got Blaise's attention.

_What lies?_

"The teachings of Seiros are nothing but lies. What is it you know of the Goddess's Rite of Rebirth, Névé?"

Blaise racked her brain but came up with basically nothing. It was a ceremony in the Goddess's Tower, and she knew the date. To the Flame Emperor, she shrugged. _It's the same day as my birthday._

"Oh? Is that so?" It was almost amusing how the atmosphere changed as the Flame Emperor inquired with an air of genuine curiosity.

_Yeah. Twenty-sixth of the Blue Sea Moon._

A moment passed before her companion apparently tried to bring the conversation back with a shake of his head. "Interesting. It also happens to be the one day of the year the Holy Mausoleum is open to the public and the tomb of Saint Seiros will be easily accessible. I intend to expose the tomb as empty of everything but a sword," he explained.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. All an empty tomb could prove was they had lied about where burying Saint Seiros which wasn't that weird in Blaise's opinion when one considered all the people who would love to grave rob (as disgusting as that was) a Saint's resting place. And, sure, the presence of a sword was a little strange but ... not exactly worthy of a witch hunt. She wrote as much down. _Exactly what is that supposed to prove?_

"Nothing on its own but it is a crucial piece to proving the Church's extended control over Fodlan…"

Whatever.

Blaise could tell he didn't want to elaborate on the details.

"... The sword is a hero's relic. A weapon of which can only be wielded by one with a harmonizing crest and I happen to be the only known bearer of the Crest of Flames to which this particular sword responds," the Flame Emperor continued. "Acquiring it would be a bonus."

That… was bunch of words in a context she didn't know besides the fact he wanted the sword.

She stared, considering him. _You just want me to stay out of the way?_

"Yes."

_And you aren't going to hurt the students?_

"I have no such desire."

Blaise didn't so much as blink at the red and white mask as a debate raged on within her. She didn't know why the Flame Emperor wanted the sword, what he was going to do with it, or if it would change their flimsy truce once he got it. She didn't know why it mattered that Saint Seiros's tomb was empty.

But, if she just stayed with the Black Eagles, she could at least keep them from the mausoleum... She could protect them for just a little longer.

Rhea certainly wasn't going to give them that but maybe the Flame Emperor would.

Or maybe she just wanted to kid herself into thinking she was protecting them so she felt less useless. Placing any kind of hope or expectations on the Flame Emperor was nothing short of desperate.

She knew that and yet...

_I will stand aside but, if anyone attacks the students, I'll kill them._

"Of that, I have no doubt." The Flame Emperor gave the slightest of bows, a simple acknowledgment to their agreement. "My offer still stands if you ever want the gold to leave," he added.

_It's too late for me._

Way too late.

The Flame Emperor looked away then, out over the expanse of Zanado and the surrounding canyon. "It seems we have something in common."

_A/N:_

_I feel inclined to mention that the concept of faith is likely to be a recurring theme and I would like to clarify that Blaise's faith progression (or lack thereof) is not meant to be representative of mine or anyone else's. The Church is quite important in this game and I feel it would not do it justice to gloss over such a relatable struggle. I kept the mentions light in this chapter so I could explain this before getting too deep but you can expect to see more of this theme as we go along._

_On another note, I love all the guesses about the Edelgard/Flame Emperor reveal. I'll admit I've written three different ways for it to happen and haven't totally decided which one but I think I know which one I'm going to pick. Just FYI, no one's been completely right. :)_

_What exactly is going on during the Goddess's Rite of Rebirth has been one of those chapters that almost make sense to me but just misses. There's a number of plot holes when it comes to Edelgard's involvement that don't quite match up for me in the game . It's possible it's just me but, for the sake of this fic, I'm treating it more as her testing the Church while she has the unique ability to get an inside perspective of it. Seeing how they respond, who are the real threats to her, who's calling the shots, trying to determine whether Blaise can be an ally or not, etc which is invaluable information for her future plans. At the same time, it doesn't hurt to poke holes in the Church's doctrine in regards to Saint Seiros and potentially acquire the Sword of the Creator in the hopes it has the crest stone with it or she can find it later. _

_This chapter's fun fact: Blaise has a weakness is Faith(white magic) and a hidden talent in Reason(black magic specifically)._

_I hope everyone's hanging in there with all the craziness going on in the real world. Everyone be careful and a special shout out to those of you in essential healthcare. I work in essential healthcare too and I know everything's turned upside down and there are a million new rules and guidelines and it's hard but we're going to make it through. I'm hoping sooner rather than later but it's a one day at a time process!_


	12. Chapter 11

Blaise was bored.

She was only allowed to train on very rare occasions and having acquiesced the patrol regimens to her father meant she had nothing to occupy her.

Hell, even the Flame Emperor had told her to simply stand aside.

So that was what she was doing, lounging at a table in one of the courtyards with a book Manuela had given her on black magic. The thing was, the book wasn't very useful if one couldn't practice what they were reading, and Blaise had long since mastered the art of forming small bursts of each element. What she really needed was some practice dummies or targets.

Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored.

Literally, the only event to note as the days of the Blue Sea Moon passed was a conversation with Sylvain which consisted of him inviting her to join the Blue Lions in their training. She might have been tempted, Hanneman was a brilliant professor of black magic after all, except for all the suggestive remarks from said student.

She didn't know what to think of Sylvain.

Dorothea called him disingenuous which Blaise wouldn't argue was incorrect, but he also hadn't really bothered her. The simple threat of hitting him over the head with her book had him respectfully retreating to the other side of the table. There was also something she appreciated about him being so overt regardless of genuity. She'd had enough of the guys she'd caught crossing her paths far more often than could be accidental.

Sylvain had even pointed one out who had walked by at least five times in her and Sylvain's short conversation. She wasn't one hundred percent sure it was true or not, but she didn't exactly doubt it either.

She put Sylvain in the harmless but questionable category.

He'd laughed at that.

Her attempts at sleep were, also, less than stellar. One would think it would be easy to sleep when she was as bored as she was, but it simply wasn't the case. Blaise found herself wandering the grounds in the dark, often gravitating toward the dining hall to swipe whatever had been left from the day's meals.

This particular night she wondered what she was doing as she abandoned her late-night studying to line her pockets with a couple of sweet rolls.

And, no, it wasn't the sweet rolls that had her concerned. One good training session could work off any indulgence she gave into.

The Flame Emperor was who had her concerned. She knew his target. She could tell her father and put an end to all of this.

She didn't want to.

And she really didn't know why except he'd done nothing to warrant her considering him an enemy.

Blaise also knew that didn't mean much, so her guilt slowly grew day by day.

Her pockets laden with her midnight snack, she dragged herself back toward her dorm before anyone saw her and grew suspicious of her newly acquired habit. The students' second floor dormitories were dark, even Edelgard's, who Blaise had been beginning to question ever slept, was without light.

She tiptoed past doors with nary a sound.

A distressed cry made her pause, one foot hovering over the ground.

Blaise strained to hear the sound, but the dormitories were silent. She was beginning to think she had imagined it when she heard it a second time.

It was a muffled noise, indistinguishable whimpers and pleas, but it was definitely there. Her head swiveled towards it.

Edelgard's door.

And it was with a frantic and inelegant run that she rushed the door, cursing silently at the lock preventing her from getting inside. She twisted the knob backwards as she had broken Balen's lock before, but it wouldn't open. Edelgard must have a different kind of lock on hers.

Still, Blaise wasn't about to be stopped by a door.

She pondered breaking it down, but that would wake every student in the dormitories and bring them all running. She didn't want to draw that kind of attention since she couldn't know what she would find on the other side.

Heart pounding, Blaise settled for figuring out the lock on the door. It took more time than she wanted as she could hear a growing distress from the other side, but she forced her own rising fury down. The lock clicking was the most beautiful sound in that moment, and Blaise burst into the room, her sword drawn and eyes scouring.

The only person she saw was Edelgard, who jumped and flinched into the corner of her bed.

Not to be deterred, however, Blaise searched for the idiot who dared bother the Imperial princess. She checked behind the door, under the bed, behind the desk, and she was hanging halfway out the window eyeing the grounds below for a fleeing form when Edelgard's voice pulled her from her search.

"Blaise... what are you doing here?"

Blaise scrambled out of the window, turning to find Edelgard had regained some of her composure even if she still shook where she now stood beside her bed. **_Where's the bad guy?_**

Edelgard fumbled to light a lantern resting on her bedside table. It's flickering flame lit the room with soft light. "What?" she asked.

**_Where's the bad guy? _**

Edelgard opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Blaise continued scanning the room for the invader but still saw no one. Finally determining Edelgard didn't understand the question, Blaise whipped out her trusty notebook and scribbled the question.

Edelgard's eyes squinted to read it before she let out sigh. "…There's no one here besides us." Edelgard's voice was quiet, tired.

Blaise frowned, lowering her sword an inch or so. **_But I heard…_** She paused, her hand remaining in the air. What had she heard? Distress. She had definitely been distressed. Hell, Edelgard looked distressed right now.

"It was a nightmare. I've had them since I was a child," Edelgard explained with a defensive air before she spun on her heel and stalked toward the door to her dorm. "Stupid, pointless dreams I can't control… It's terribly frustrating." She shut the door and jiggled the lock which spun uselessly after Blaise's interference. Edelgard glared at it as if it offended her.

For her part, Blaise flushed at her misunderstanding, finally sheathing her sword. She tiptoed forward, hesitantly placing her hand over Edelgard's so the princess quit fiddling with the lock to look at her. It only made Blaise more embarrassed. **_I can fix it. Sorry._** She ducked over the lock, dropping her notebook on the floor beside her, so she didn't have to face the princess.

…

"In any case, I appreciate your concern but, maybe, try not to scare me like that next time," Edelgard whispered.

Blaise glanced over her shoulder as Edelgard walked back to her bed. She shook her head and made a few adjustments to the lock until she was certain it was working satisfactorily. She had an inexplicable urge to apologize again. **_Sorry. Do you want to talk? Or I can leave?_** Blaise pointed her thumb back at the door.

"They're just worthless dreams of the past. Talking about it won't change anything and I'm certain you won't find them very interesting," Edelgard stated, once again with a defensive edge.

Defensive as she was, Edelgard hadn't told her to leave and she almost sounded willing… under the right encouragement maybe.

Blaise took a few deliberately slow steps forward, one hand nervously twisting the hem of her cloak. There was no room to mess this up, so she settled for writing instead of Signing and passed the paper to Edelgard.  _I don't mind listening if it will help._

Edelgard's piercing gaze settled upon her, considering her. Finally, her expression softened into something more vulnerable. "I suppose I could try. But only if you swear not to tell a soul."

_You can trust me with anything._

She couldn't tell many people if she wanted to, physically incapable of speaking and all, and one simply didn't write down sensitive information.

"I thought you might say that. Very well." Edelgard paused to situate herself against the headboard of her bed, drawing her knees against her chest. She stared towards the window, but Blaise suspected she wasn't seeing anything physically before her. When she spoke, there was the slightest tremble to her voice. "I dream of… my older brother, paralyzed, helpless… My older sister crying for help that never came… the youngest babbling words beyond meaning. I see my family dying slowly, waiting in the darkest depths for a glimmer of light." Her eyes fixated on Blaise and they were cold and angry and detached. Blaise wasn't entirely sure if it was that look or her words that sent shivers up and down her spine. "I once had ten siblings, eight older and two younger. Such a large family, and, yet, I became the heir to the throne. Do you know why? Every last one of them was crippled by disease or lost their mind or died. I was the only one left who could inherit the throne."

Blaise knew Edelgard had lost multiple siblings, she'd said such by the campfire on the way to Magdred. But… this was different than Blaise had expected. How did ten children from the same family die? Ten royal children at that? That wasn't just some devastating sickness or an accident. Edelgard spoke with anger. Had there had been intent? The thought made her stomach turn and her blood boil.

She didn't trust herself to respond except to sit her notebook down before she decided to throw it.

"Things kept getting worse. The darkness kept getting darker…"

Her words reminded Blaise of a hazy memory of something Chevalier had told her. Something about the dark... but when had Chevalier spoken of the dark? And why did her heart race unbidden at the mention by both Edelgard and Chevalier?

"…In the end, I was the only one who survived. The nightmares are a reminder... to never forget. To never allow such terrible things to happen again. Even now, I'm the only one who can carry the weight of the Adrestian Empire. The future of the Empire… of everything... depends on me." Edelgard hummed before Blaise could generate a response. The princess appeared more comfortable, her expression turning pensive. "I shared more than I intended to. I suppose there's something in the air tonight. I've never told anyone about my past before. Please … forget I said anything. I shan't keep you awake any longer," she dismissed.

Blaise made no move to leave.

How could she after that?

Instead, she closed the distance between them, carefully taking one of Edelgard's hands and intertwining their fingers. Edelgard's, gloved with silk even now, were cool to her touch. The notebook forgotten, her free hand Signed. **_I won't forget._** **_I'll keep you safe, I promise._**

Edelgard pulled on their hands, slipping off the edge of the bed to stand in front of Blaise. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she berated in a whisper.

It didn't bother her that Edelgard didn't believe her. Actions spoke more than words and how could Edelgard know how far Blaise would be willing to go for a friend when Blaise herself didn't? What Blaise did know though was that she had yet to reach that limit despite nearly getting herself killed and potentially conspiring with an anti-church individual.

Who was to say where the line would be drawn?

Blaise gently squeezed Edelgard's hand and left it at that.

~FE~

The twenty sixth of the Blue Sea Moon was utter chaos.

As promised, Blaise was stationed with the Black Eagles who were assigned to a kind of check-in system at the front gate. Reluctantly, Rhea had agreed attendees to the Rite of Rebirth would be invitation only under guise of needing to ascertain the amount of food provided. That said, it hardly helped in terms of the number of people as literally anyone could acquire an invitation if they simply requested one. It was also agreed that everyone was to enter through the main gate only, the others shut down for the day.

The Black Eagles' job was to only allow in those with said invitation and then to pass off those they allowed in to the Blue Lions who would request the attendee to store all weapons in the provided storage units before entering the Goddess Tower.

There were four lines of two students. Bernadetta, Petra, Hubert, and Linhardt checked for invitations while Edelgard, Caspar, Dorothea, and Ferdinand greeted those allowed in and escorted small groups to their corresponding Blue Lions team.

Blaise and Manuela observed the crowd for anyone suspicious and occasionally intervened when an argument broke out which typically involved someone without an invitation trying to get inside. As such, Blaise's main job was throwing people out Manuela couldn't talk down.

Once the ceremony was set to start, they locked the gates and proceeded into the cathedral to guard the entrance to the Goddess Tower while the Blue Lions attended the ceremony within the tower as extra protection for Rhea. The Golden Deer had the job of patrolling and confronting anything suspicious.

It was at this point Blaise's anxiety skyrocketed. She paced back and forth with her sword unsheathed and her gaze fixated on the entrance to the cathedral. She couldn't see the path to the Holy Mausoleum from their position, but she knew how close it was which begged the question... what if they were dragged into battle? Assuming, of course, the Flame Emperor made it inside somehow and that he held up his side of the bargain which was to not attack any students not interfering.

She twirled her sword as she pivoted into the other direction, the wind whistling as she cut through air.

That was the thing though, wasn't it?

Would her gamble with the Flame Emperor protect the Black Eagles or endanger them more? She hated not knowing the answer.

A low whistle from Caspar reminded her she wasn't alone. "Geez, Blaise, are you stressed or what?" he called.

"Don't tease her," Dorothea reprimanded. "There could be trouble any moment." She was nervously fiddling with the hilt of her own sword.

"I doubt we will be seeing anything. Such an unthought out plan is more than likely a hoax," Linhardt yawned.

Ferdinand slapped the healer on the back before he got too comfortable. "Regardless, it is our duty to stand guard and prepare to act," he insisted.

There was a whimper from behind Hubert which Blaise suspected was Bernadetta hiding behind the mage.

"What do you think, Edelgard?" Caspar asked.

The Imperial princess had been quiet all morning. Pensive and detached in a way not unlike Blaise herself.

Manuela spoke before Edelgard formed a response. "Now, kids, sloppy plan or not, we will treat this mission as any other. With our undivided attention. You may discuss schematics over dinner," she interrupted with an air of finality.

Blaise only vaguely heard the conversation going on as she suddenly became aware of a figure approaching them from the far end of the cathedral. She froze, her hand clenching her sword, for the split moment it took her to recognize him.

Balen.

And he was moving quickly.

She made the split decision to meet him halfway.

He spoke the moment she was in hearing range. "Blaise, I need you on my team."

Blaise stopped where she was, heart skipping a beat. **_What?_**

"Rhea isn't the target. It's the Holy Mausoleum."

Her heart skipped another beat before proceeding to race beneath her skin. How did Balen know that? Luckily, he just seemed to think she was shocked by the revelation if his hasty explanation was anything to go by. Normally she would be offended he didn't think more highly of her intelligence but, in this case, she was willing to let it slide.

"The threat against Rhea was too obvious to be anything but a distraction. We've narrowed down the real target to the mausoleum."

She nodded just to be responding in some way.

"The mausoleum, you said?"

Blaise turned her head to find Edelgard had come up to join them.

Balen glanced at the Black Eagle student before nodding. His gaze then settled back on Blaise. "You will come with us to the mausoleum, right?" he asked.

She bit her lip, acutely aware she had gotten herself into serious trouble again. How was she supposed to stay out of it if she was dragged into it? Would the Flame Emperor get the wrong idea? But then if she didn't join Balen, wouldn't that be suspicious in and of itself? Blaise glanced over at Edelgard, perhaps hoping for some help though she knew she would have no idea about her dilemma.

Lavender eyes blinked at her. "If you are certain, Professor Balen, perhaps some of us should accompany you as well," she suggested.

**_No._**

Blaise had Signed her displeasure without having considered the suggestion, the action seeming to have surprised Edelgard as the princess frowned at her.

That was the last thing Blaise wanted though. To have to add them to her worries and here was still certainly safer than the mausoleum… Probably. She snapped for a legitimate reason.

**_You have your orders and are needed here in case Balen is wrong. You can spare me._**

She would go and… figure something out.

"… If you are certain," Edelgard agreed as much a question as a statement.

Blaise nodded again, hoping her anxiety was well-masked. At any rate, Balen was pleased, her brother standing taller and relaxed as he led the way back across the cathedral. Blaise fought not to look back. The urge was harder still as they converged on the rest of the Golden Deer, Blaise slowing down with another kind of anxiety fluttering in her chest while she swore Balen quickened his pace.

Claude grinned as he saw her behind her brother. It was almost blinding and gave Blaise the uncomfortable feeling he knew something she didn't. "Nice to have you, Blaise. You and Teach have perfect timing. The Rite of Rebirth is finally underway. It's time to see if our hunch is right."

The pink-haired girl who Blaise vaguely knew by the name of Hilda from her participation a few months back during the mock battle twirled a strand of her hair as she leaned against her axe. "Ugh, I hope it's not. Then we wouldn't have to fight anyone."

"Our hunch is right," Balen insisted.

Blaise was surprised by how confident he was.

Lorenz, someone she knew from word of mouth only, echoed her thoughts. "You're certainly confident, Professor."

"Why wouldn't he be?" Leonie scoffed. "Jeralt trained him for this kind of thing," she reminded him.

"I do not find this a matter of training but situational at best," Lysithea argued.

"We've all come to this conclusion together. I'm sure we've got it right." That exclamation came from a boy with glasses whose name Blaise didn't know off the top of her head.

"Right or wrong, the clock is ticking. All we can do now is stick to the plan," Claude decided before waving for the group to follow. "Come on, I know a hidden spot where we can monitor the stairs to the Holy Mausoleum. If there's anyone down there, they'll be trapped like the rats they are. We'll just have to take them down without getting bitten."

"Yeah! I've been training nonstop for this!" Another student Blaise didn't know except for his frequent loitering either in the dining hall or the training grounds. Now he sliced his axe through the air so dramatically Blaise winced despite her distance. The group sans Marianne and Blaise followed Claude and Balen.

Marianne bowed her head, fingers intertwined. "Dear Goddess… Please protect us…" she whispered.

Blaise stared at her. She couldn't think of anyone in the Black Eagles who had done such prior to a mission. Was it normal?

Marianne turned a bright shade of red when she opened her eyes to Blaise's stare. "Oh! Um, were you waiting on me? I'm sorry," she apologized and hurried off after her class.

Blaise tapped her foot and only once Balen hung back and she realized he was waiting on her did she follow. As she drew level with her brother, he gave her a quick rundown on who everyone was. Ignatz and Raphael were the two she hadn't known by name. The Golden Deer had a higher ratio of long-range fighters compared to front fighters than was normally recommended and he wanted her to stay near the back to ensure no enemies sneaked up on the students from behind.

She agreed.

It was kind of a nice way of saying she would be too difficult to try and fit in the front without throwing off their well-practiced synergy, but it would keep her out of the fighting unless the invaders actually tried to box them in and Balen could worry about the frontlines without being as concerned of a flank in the tighter confines of the mausoleum.

It was a decent enough plan anyway.

They didn't have to wait long after hiding outside the mausoleum either. A group of robed individuals who Blaise didn't recognize from check-in passed them by. None of them had crests like the Flame Emperor so Blaise guessed they were nothing more than lackies.

The group waited a few minutes longer to make sure there wasn't a second troop of enemies. Then, Balen gave the signal and his team followed him down the stairs, effectively cutting off the only escape route.

Blaise saw Balen, Hilda, and Leonie fan out from the stairway, Claude and Raphael just a step behind. Ignatz, Marianne, and Lysithea hung back a few steps so Blaise stopped level with them. The mausoleum was lit with hundreds of torches lining the walls and upon some statues amidst the room. The air was stuffy but surprisingly lacking in dust. In fact, it was quite clean for a place that was closed off for the entire year.

"Our guess was spot on," Claude remarked with a satisfied nod.

The enemy had noticed them now, beginning to form a defensive formation save for one individual who was seemingly very interested in a casket at the far end of the mausoleum.

Saint Seiros', Blaise supposed.

"Looks like the enemy is going after the casket in the back. Maybe they're after the Saint's bones? Weird. I'd like to defeat them before they can finish the job," Claude continued.

"Let's do it," Balen agreed.

Then, as if Balen's silence was the only thing holding the fight at bay up until this moment, the Holy Mausoleum exploded into action. Claude took out the first enemy with an arrow through the heart before Balen reached the first defensive wave. Enemy mages immediately retaliated by raining spells upon the charging Golden Deer.

Blaise blinked and Balen was in the thick of it, cutting down enemy upon enemy as he attempted to break through the line. She had the sudden urge to jump at his side and probably would have despite the plan except Leonie joined him instead, her lance slicing through an opposing soldier.

It irritated her more than she cared to admit.

Otherwise, the Golden Deer's lineup of long-range fighters actually proved advantageous as the spaces between columns piled with enemies attempting to overrun Balen and Leonie. With some clever use of terrain, Claude halfway up a column and Ignatz at the top of a slope, the two archers wounded many an enemy for several minutes until a couple mages figured out where they were and sent sheets of ice at the two, forcing them to take up new positions. Hilda with Marianne and Raphael with Lysithea cut down anyone approaching from the side. Lorenz completed the effective team, the knight flitting from one side to the other or covering Leonie and Balen should one of them need a second to regroup.

Blaise, frankly, didn't have much to do besides prepare to join in if someone looked about to get a serious blow on any student. None so far actually needed her.

It was a shock when the light of a warp spell deposited a dark warrior to their right.

It was apparent to Blaise it wasn't the Flame Emperor as she first expected. This warrior sat upon a dark steed and was covered entirely in black armor, his face concealed beneath a helmet reminiscent of a skull. The only color he sported was a sharp scythe that gleamed of fine silver. He bore a crest she thought might be familiar, but it was definitely not the Flame Emperor's.

She twirled her sword in preparation of finally being needed but the knight didn't move. His helmet, however, shifted in her direction and she swore he was watching her.

"Death Knight! Prove your strength and scatter these fools!"

The Death Knight, she supposed, barely inclined his head toward the mage throwing around orders. "I don't take commands. Or waste my time on weaklings." His voice was also of a robotic nature.

"I'm getting a really disturbing vibe from that guy..." Claude admitted, suddenly jumping from somewhere above to land beside Blaise.

She agreed. This guy wasn't your average knight and she was inclined to leave him be regardless of her agreement with the Flame Emperor. She shook her head and pointed toward the mage by Seiros' casket.

Claude seemed to understand as he nodded. "No one go near the evil–looking knight, okay?" he called out before lowering his voice for Blaise only. "Keep an eye on him as we go?"

Blaise nodded and the archer clapped her on the shoulder before he returned to the front.

They were forced to slow down as they progressed due to a number of traps on the floor which were still active and perfectly capable of being used against them. Still, they moved quite steadily forward by Balen's direction until they were well past the Death Knight's position.

A handful of reinforcements came up behind them just as they were closing in on their target. With some relief, Blaise was finally needed, and she dropped into her fighting stance, her sword slicing through air in a silent warning for them to reconsider their advance.

They didn't and Blaise pulled her brother's crest around her. The first soldier fell from a strike of thunder magic that numbed her hand as she released it. An arrow from Ignatz and another spell from Lysithea sizzled past her, killing another. Blaise's sword made quick work of the two who managed to reach her.

She frowned.

They may have been dressed as soldiers, but these men were not well-trained. Did that pertain to all these opponents or was it just the reinforcements? Her eyes scanned the devastation left behind by the Golden Deer and had a sour feeling it was the first one.

Slowly, she turned to see where Balen was at with his interception.

The enemy mage had the casket of Saint Seiros open and Blaise could hear from here the "Huh? What–" exclamation from the man seconds before he pulled out a weapon from inside it.

Blaise froze as the frontliners of the Golden Deer converged on him before he could escape.

So, the Flame Emperor had not been lying though the term "sword" may have been used a bit loosely. She supposed the weapon could be called a sword, but her immediate thought was more along the lines of abomination.

It reminded her of Thunderbrand with that same bleached white color and crude indentations along the blade. It did lack, however, the horrid red stone and didn't seem to be holding a crest hostage. For all intents and purposes, the sword was as inanimate as any other.

Too late, Blaise realized her thought was premature.

The mage turned the sword on Balen in a desperate act to defend himself from the charging figure that was her brother, but he was clearly as inexperienced as the others and, not only was he disarmed, but Balen caught the sword by the hilt.

Blaise felt a sudden detachment as if she was no longer in the mausoleum. Lysithea and Ignatz on either side of her seemed far removed, nothing more than a blur on the edge of her vision. Time around her slowed as she watched Balen abandon his usual weapon to steady the hero's relic in his hand.

Searing pain was her last conscious realization as it overtook every other sense.

The blood in her veins grew white hot, burning her from the tips of her toes to the very center of her heart. The air around her scorched her skin as well as any flame. The power of her brother's crest, once so comforting and empowering as it surrounded her, had become an inferno that stagnated around and within her.

She had the horrid thought of burning alive.

_Let go!_

The cry which echoed within her mind was unmistakably Chevalier.

Blaise had the presence to realize the Nabatean was panicked though she couldn't comprehend what was being said to her.

_Névé!_

It was like a sword cut through her heart when the crest's power snapped from her, abandoning her to dance around the weapon in Balen's hand. Her body went rigid and numb with shock.

The sword glowed red.

Blaise couldn't breathe. The ground was no longer beneath her nor the Golden Deer around her. All she saw was a red glow. Her resonance with Balen, severed.

Many crests flared around her and she dove after them in search of one to ease whatever this was happening to her. Claude- no, Marianne – no, Lysithea- no and no, Death Knight- no.

She was falling and somewhere far away she heard a cry of "Teach!"

Far louder was the scream for "Névé" which rang from the deepest recesses of her mind.

Chevalier...

Blaise forced her eyes open, forced them to see through the red glow in search of her green-haired friend. Zanado came into focus and she was so relieved to feel grounded somewhere she didn't even care she had no idea how she was suddenly here and not in the Holy Mausoleum. She didn't care it wasn't Zanado as she knew it, the city flourishing and unblemished. She lay huddled on the refreshingly cool stone when the sounds of footsteps approaching her convinced her of the necessity of movement. Aching and trembling, Blaise scrambled to her feet to see a woman with a man a step behind her.

"My dearest Névé," the woman cooed, a large but unsettling smile upon her features.

Blaise frowned, certain she had never seen this woman in her life.

So why was she speaking with such familiarity?

She was sure she would have remembered her. She was gorgeous for one despite her age being more on the mature side than young. She had long and straight black hair which contrasted sharply with her porcelain skin and her eyes only added to her otherworldly appearance, such a dark blue they took on a violet hue. They were sharp and calculating in a way not unlike Hubert when he was considering a threat.

In contrast, the man accompanying her was a grungy and broad-shouldered brute. He held a sword, his hair a dusty brown with a slightly darker beard, both beginning to gray with age. He had two long scars down the length of the left side of his face, suggesting he was a seasoned fighter.

Before she could form a response, a scream rent through the air and her gaze was drawn over their shoulders to see a group of men overrunning the city, their weapons decimating all in their path. One scream became many and blood fell, bright against the white stone. Blaise fumbled for her sword. Ripping the weapon from its sheath, she froze.

This wasn't her sword.

A shadow fell over her before she could consider the ramifications of such.

Snapping her head up, Blaise had just enough time to jump away before another man dropped from the back of a wyvern where she had been standing. At first, she saw nothing but the red glow of his sword. It was that sword. The one from Seiros' tomb except it did have that pulsing red stone imbedded in the hilt. Her disgust was quickly replaced with horror as the man swung the sword, its blade separating into barbed increments of which fractured stone until it resembled the Zanado she knew. She caught a glimpse of him then, noting the double scar on his face before he snapped the sword back in one piece and strode to the heart of the city.

Blaise spun back to the two who had approached her to find the woman gone and that same man with the double scar still before her. Her heart skipped a beat. How were there two of them and how could the one in front of her stand there so calmly as if a massacre wasn't happening around them? She backed away, every nerve in her body telling her to get away now.

She managed one step before a weapon wedged itself in her back. Another flare of excruciating pain penetrated the fog that was her mind as did the soft rhyme whispered in her ear.

"My Dearest One, sleep through this night.

The storm has come and red will stain the white.

As your breath fades, the storm will die,

Leaving nothing in its wake, but a shattered, ruined sight."

Blaise felt herself lowered to the ground with surprising care, the woman with the dark hair humming Chevalier's melody as her fingers brushed strands of Blaise's locks from her face. Blaise was shocked to see strands of dark green and not blue. She barely had the strength to turn her head to see the woman's companion walk by, crossing the boundaries marked by statues.

Statues of Chevalier.

The woman, with her oddly maternal expression, faded from Blaise's view as did the cries around her. Zanado had gone eerily silent. She made some attempt to sit up, but her hand slipped on the wet stone. A pair of arms supported her before she fell, cradling her as one did a child. She knew that crest which enveloped her now. Softer than rain yet as refreshing as ice against a fever.

Her own… though she had never truly separated it from others before.

**_It hurts._**

What exactly hurt, she couldn't say.

"It's not real. It's just a dream." Chevalier's voice was a whisper and raw with emotion.

Blaise thought she might have been crying.

She wasn't sure she believed it was just a dream, especially as Chevalier's hand began to glow with the soft light of white magic. A pleasant warmth healed the burns, the bruises, the aches she felt from the inside out, but it was the flow of Chevalier's crest which revitalized her like a breath of chilled mountain air. Blaise closed her eyes, pressing herself deeper into Chevalier's embrace.

It didn't stay that way.

Her surroundings changed as quickly as a snap of one's fingers. No longer supported and her mind nothing more than a haze, she was faced by a sudden bombardment of orders and weapons hitting stone and stuffy air overwhelming her senses all at once. The crests surrounding her were distinctly different from anything she'd felt before. They were hollow rhythms twisting around her, only furthering the drain of her body and leaving her with the distinct feeling of suffocating. She realized she was holding tightly to someone, her fingers digging into them, but, despite all of that, her gaze remained straight ahead on Balen.

Her brother had incapacitated the mage and was ordering his students to help contain those who had been beaten or had surrendered. The Death Knight was nowhere to be seen. Catherine was rounding up others behind them if her orders were anything to go by.

Balen still held the sword.

Her stomach churned with growing nausea.

"If you're just going to stand here, must you force me, as well? I'm not a child, you know."

The annoyed tone came from beside her where Lysithea stood as the person Blaise had unwittingly grabbed onto. Blaise immediately let go, stumbling to get away from the judgmental glare Lysithea was sending her. She wanted to apologize, tell her she hadn't meant to hold her back, but she was so detached and drained she couldn't move her hands if she wanted to.

With a huff, the girl stomped off toward Balen who was beginning to usher everyone from the mausoleum.

There was a laugh behind her, sending a shot of pain through her head. "Tough luck, Blaise. Lysithea is as sharp as they come," Claude stated as he drew up next to the mercenary. "No matter how hard she tries to hide it, she's still a kid at heart but maybe be less obvious next time," he suggested.

Less obvious?

Blaise watched him saunter off, now the last to gather with the others.

What … did they think happened? That she had simply grabbed ahold of Lysithea to keep her out of the fray? They didn't feel, they didn't see any of it?

Rattled, confused, despondent, the Golden Deer were halfway out before Blaise even attempted to follow. When she did, it was only because Balen took a step toward her and she fled away from him and that sword. She fled from the claustrophobia-inducing mausoleum, from the myriad of crests grabbing at her. She pushed them away with the terrifying thought of burning again.

She just needed some air.

Some crisp, fresh air.

Yet, as she pushed her way past the Golden Deer and Catherine with all the grace of a rampaging steed, Blaise knew very well it wouldn't be that simple.

Nothing ever was anymore.

_A/N:_

_Thanks as always, everyone, for any thoughts or concerns. I have to run today so no long Author's Note but I hope you enjoyed today's chapter. It's a little awkward, I think, but you get it anyways. :)_


	13. Chapter 12

If she thought getting out of the mausoleum would help her breathe, Blaise was sorely mistaken. The air may have been less stagnant outside, but it was still the end of the Blue Sea Moon and well into the afternoon. The rays of the sun scorched the monastery, the stone soaking up the heat only to release it, so the unfortunate inhabitants of the grand castle seemingly baked from above and below.

Hanging over the edge of the bridge, her brow damp with sweat and mind spinning with vertigo, she wondered how she could possibly make it to her room. Her stupid dorm was all the way on the other side of the monastery and on the second floor.

But the cathedral would soon be filled with religious followers leaving the ceremony, assuming it wasn't already, so the other direction was really her only option.

Too bad her eyes couldn't focus enough to keep the bridge from looking as if there were two of them.

Utterly frustrated, Blaise forced herself to turn around for the cathedral.

Running away would probably be suspicious anyways.

She could hear orders coming from Catherine as she passed the stairway to the mausoleum. Blaise quickened her pace in order to stay ahead of them. Her best bet was to rejoin the Black Eagles and find someplace to sit down. If she was lucky, they would just let her rest.

Finding them wasn't difficult as the Rite of Rebirth had actually not yet released and they were the only ones present. All eyes were on her as she approached and some of the more vocal Black Eagles called out a greeting or a question. Manuela shushed them and approached Blaise herself, her expression oddly serious.

"I take it the Holy Mausoleum was the real target? Did Catherine's group make it in time to capture them?" Manuela inquired in a soft voice.

Blaise nodded. **_They're coming up now._**

"Good. I'll take Dorothea and Linhardt to help with any injuries. You can handle the rest of the kids and inform Rhea once the ceremony is over, yes? Catherine will be holding any prisoners in the audience chamber until Rhea speaks with them."

Joy. Talking with Rhea.

Blaise nodded again because how could she not?

Satisfied, Manuela started to turn back to her students when she jerked back to frown at Blaise. She ran her fingers through Blaise's sweaty hair. "You didn't overdo it, did you?"

**_No._**

Except probably yes.

Manuela's brown eyes narrowed at her, but she didn't press for anything else, only nodding and proceeding to call the two Black Eagle students with any skill at healing to join her. Dorothea smiled a strained sort of smile at Blaise as she passed while Linhardt had all the expression of someone sleepwalking.

The heaviness of her limbs returned once Manuela was no longer scrutinizing her. She couldn't stand it any longer. Blaise unbuckled her sword from around her waist as she joined the rest of the students, tossing the weapon against the wall nearest them. She discarded her cloak next, immediately finding some relief in the flow of air against her burning skin. She didn't wear much armor and what she did was "light" but it, too, found its way on the floor of the cathedral until she was only wearing a thin shirt and trousers.

The Black Eagles students ranged from paying no attention to gawking and Blaise had the vague thought that it was somewhat inappropriate for nobles to discard clothing in front of others even if it was all excess clothing.

They were weird like that.

Still, she didn't regret it, and no one actually said anything to her. Petra, for one, didn't even bat an eye and Dorothea wasn't there to tease her so Blaise just ignored any extra attention from the others. Resting her back against the wall, she slid down to sit on the floor.

"Rough, uh, battle, Blaise?" Caspar was, naturally, the first to break the silence. The axe-wielder smiled, and Blaise was struck by how he almost seemed bashful as he rubbed the back of his head, the tips of his ears slightly pink.

She didn't know what to think about that, so Blaise shook her head, hoping her expression was neutral. She dragged her notebook out of the pocket of her cloak. _Didn't do much._

"You don't look as if you didn't do much," Ferdinand stated. "Not that you…" he trailed off due to a sudden cough that had him turning away from her.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. Had something happened while she was gone? They were being more weird than normal.

"What I believe Ferdinand is trying to say..." Edelgard cut in with a surprisingly irritated tone that continued Blaise's suspicions, "... is that you look as if you ran from here to Remire village and back. You didn't do that, did you?"

Again she shook her head.

That would be silly.

Although, she supposed it might be less inaccurate to say she ran from here to Zanado and back.

_The Holy Mausoleum has no airflow. It's hot._

And Balen and that stupid sword tried to burn her alive... Even now she was attempting to ignore the pulses from Ferdinand, Bernadetta, and, especially, Edelgard which seemed to be trying very hard to catch her attention.

"What were they wanting inside?" Petra inquired.

_They opened Saint Seiros' casket._

Hubert huffed, leaning against the wall. "How intriguing. I wonder what one could desire from there. I was under the impression Saint Seiros was not buried with earthly possessions per her own request."

Blaise didn't know about that, but it didn't sound far-fetched for a Saint. _There was only a sword inside._

Several gasps sounded around her, surprising her with their passion.

"A sword?" Ferdinand repeated, now frowning.

"Why-why would there be a sword?" Bernadetta stammered.

"Surely it was the wrong casket," Ferdinand insisted.

Seriously, you guys, it was just a sword in a casket. What was the big deal? Although, with this kind of reaction, Blaise was beginning to have more faith in the Flame Emperor's bizarre plan. Apparently, he knew what he was talking about. Blaise shrugged, rolling her eyes at the drama. _Maybe it was her sword. Balen has it regardless._

"Your brother? So, they didn't get away with it?" Edelgard questioned.

Blaise shook her head.

"… Well, that is good news. The Archbishop will be relieved, I'm certain," Edelgard admitted before nodding to Ferdinand. "And she will likely have an answer to its presence whether it was Saint Seiros' or not," she assured the rest of her class.

There was some general mumbling from a select few individuals but, otherwise, the topic was dropped.

Blaise was thoroughly relieved, turning her attention to her canteen of water which she spilled into her hand and froze into ice before dabbing it against the back of her neck. She grew more and more frustrated as it never seemed to bring the relief she expected from something that couldn't be any colder. Not only that, she became aware of how her back ached where that dark-haired woman's weapon had stabbed her from her... dream, for lack of a better word.

Unbidden, her eyes flickered to her sword where it was half-hidden beneath her cloak. The sheath, the hilt... that was definitely her sword. Her hand lifted to her hair, drawing the loose locks over her shoulder.

Cobalt blue.

… As it should be

So why did she hurt so?

Slowly, she massaged the sore area, the movement catching Edelgard's eye. Blaise changed the motion to redoing the braid in her hair as soon as she noticed Edelgard watching. She knew she'd been caught but the house leader didn't bring it up.

It wasn't but a few more minutes before the sound of many people approaching suggested the Goddess's Rite of Rebirth had finally ended.

Blaise lamented having to stand again.

At least until Edelgard offered her a hand up which kind of made it worth it.

Scurrying to gather her gear together, Blaise threw her cloak back on only to find Ferdinand had her discarded light armor in his arms and Edelgard held her blade.

Bless them, not forcing her to carry everything right now.

She waved for everyone to follow despite knowing they would anyways and prepared to intercept Rhea on the Archbishop's procession out. Luckily, it was an organized dismissal where the guests remained seated as Lady Rhea exited with a contingent of knights. As such, there was no need to be discreet about the attack on the Holy Mausoleum since there were no guests to risk learning of the event.

A good thing too as delicacy was not one of Blaise's strong points.

Blaise positioned herself directly in the Knights of Seiros and Rhea's path, making it quite obvious she had something to inform them of. It was a bold move when most people asked for permission to approach the Archbishop or, otherwise, hurried out of her way. She could sense some anxiety from the Black Eagles as well, but, Edelgard, a half-step behind Blaise, exuded all the confidence that her station as the future Emperor required of her and none of her classmates, even Bernadetta, made any move to break line.

Something flashed in the Archbishop's eyes as the battalion neared, but it was gone before Blaise could determine what it was. Rhea was all serene and smile as she waved her knights to the side, allowing Blaise and the Black Eagles to stand before her.

"Has there been a development then, dear child?"

**_The Holy Mausoleum was the target. The Golden Deer intercepted the invasion and captured everyone they were able to who were responsible. They, along with Catherine and her knights, are waiting for you in the audience chamber._**

Rhea gave the slightest of bows in respectful acknowledgment. **_Thank you. And where is Manuela? I do hope there were not any injuries to our students or staff._**

**_I was not made aware of anything serious, but she did take Dorothea and Linhardt of the Black Eagles to tend to any._**

Rhea exaggerated her resulting sigh. "I am relieved to hear that. The Goddess has blessed us with her divine protection this day. I thank each and every one of you for your service..."

Was it divine protection when the opposing group was unskilled and the one knight who may have done some damage had been told not to attack unless threatened? Blaise kept her question to herself, reigning her thoughts in as Rhea continued with one more surprising request.

"... but I am afraid I must ask one more thing of you."

Warning bells began ringing in her ears and it took Blaise a second to respond. **_Yes?_**

"Please escort your students to the audience chamber," Rhea ordered.

The pounding of her heart was immediate.

The audience chamber? Why? That was where all the prisoners were… Why would the Black Eagles need to be there? They were uninvolved with all of that. She knew it, had made sure of it even. That was basically the entire deal between her and the Flame Emperor.

Rhea turned just slightly to Alois on her left. "Alois, if you would please gather together the Blue Lions and bring them to the audience chamber as well."

"Why of course, Lady Rhea. I would be honored!"

That only made Blaise relax a smidge in that, whatever Rhea wanted, it wasn't specific to the Black Eagles. She forced a stiff bow to the Archbishop. It wasn't like she could demand answers and, so, she was forced to nod for the Black Eagles to follow her across the cathedral.

Whispers broke out behind her as they put some distance between themselves and Rhea's group. Blaise more or less ignored it as she hurriedly swiped her armor from Ferdinand and reapplied it as she walked. Better safe than sorry and she didn't trust Rhea as far as she could throw her.

"W-Why are we being taken to the audience chamber too?" Bernadetta fretted.

"It is an unusual request," Hubert admitted, and Blaise could practically hear his frown. "Considering the circumstances…"

"Considering the circumstances? Did we do something wrong?" Caspar asked which only made Bernadetta whimper.

"What was there to do wrong? We followed our orders as they were given to us," Ferdinand argued.

"And yet the Holy Mausoleum was still invaded. Perhaps she does not believe we performed adequately," Hubert returned.

"Might we be joining Professor Manuela and that be all?" Petra suggested.

The group's growing anxiety halted as Edelgard cut in, her words sharp. "If we did not act accordingly, the Archbishop would not have asked for the Blue Lions to be present. Remember the Golden Deer are already in the audience chamber so it is more likely she simply has something she would like to inform all of us at once. Do you agree, Blaise?" Edelgard questioned, spinning on the mercenary at the last minute.

Blaise took her sword from Edelgard, belting it around her waist as she considered the question. Frankly, she was a bit surprised to have been asked her opinion though she wasn't sure why when she finally looked at the students to find some of them practically begging for some reassurance. How was it she became the adult in this situation when she may not even be older than some of them?

**_Rhea has no reason to question your performance._**

Just hers.

The rest of the trip to the audience chamber was silent. It wasn't much different when they arrived either, Blaise only Signing to Balen from across the room that Rhea was on her way which he then relayed to Catherine.

She settled nearly as far from her brother as possible, the Black Eagles crowding around her.

Rhea, Seteth, and Jeralt joined them a few minutes later and the Blue Lions and Alois maybe ten minutes after that.

With all three classes in the chamber, Rhea ordered the prisoners to be brought before her. Catherine opened the door to an adjoining room and Shamir led them out in a strict line. Manuela, Linhardt, and Dorothea, apparently having checked the prisoners for injuries as well, followed last and remained just outside the door.

The senior staff convened together in whispers of which Blaise could not hear despite the silence surrounding her. The atmosphere was tense, no one daring to make a sound. Even Alois was silent.

It wasn't until the staff separated and formed their own line across from the prisoners that Blaise understood what was going on.

Rhea stood the furthest back, but in the middle, Seteth a step to her left and in front. Catherine, Thunderbrand glowing a threatening red in her grip, waltzed up and down the back of the lined prisoners. Shamir remained at the end of the prisoner line. Each expression of theirs ranged from cold and impassive to furious.

Blaise briefly caught her father's gaze from across the room and he gave the slightest shake of his head, silently willing her not to draw attention to herself.

She shifted, unable to completely squash her distress.

Ever perceptive, Edelgard shot her a look and the anxiety rippled through the Black Eagles.

This was a sentencing and they were there to witness it.

There was a lot of information thrown around: Lonato, the attack, the mausoleum, the sword, the assassination plot, something about the Western Church of which she wasn't familiar with.

Evidence, evidence, and more evidence to the point Blaise couldn't help but question if these men were anything more than scapegoats.

Sacrifices.

"As all of you have committed a breach of faith, the Archbishop will now pass judgment," Seteth concluded what composed of a trial.

Shamir paced the line of them, parchment in hand though she hardly glanced at it. "Inciting a Kingdom noble to rebel. Unlawful entry. The attempted assassination of the Archbishop. An attack on the Holy Mausoleum. It is unnecessary to go on, followers of the Western Church."

"What?! We have nothing to do with the Western Church," one of the prisoners exclaimed.

"You have already been identified. Please spare us the second–rate theater," Seteth snapped.

Rhea stepped forward, speaking for the first time since she stood before the prisoners. She stood at her full height, her eyes burning with passion and without a hint of the compassionate air she so often portrayed.

Condemnation.

Blaise felt her heart hammer in her chest. Would Rhea look at her like that if she knew Blaise had known the plan and said nothing?

"Dishonoring a holy ceremony is worthy of death for a member of the church. You are well past the hope of redemption. If you have any grace remaining, you will willingly offer your life as atonement for this crime," Rhea demanded.

"No! This isn't what we were told would happen! We've been deceived!"

Death from Rhea. Deception from the Flame Emperor.

Blaise felt her head pound.

"It's no use arguing. Whatever your excuse, the punishment stands."

"May your souls find peace as they return to the goddess..." Rhea lamented.

"Wait! Please! The Goddess would never forgive you for our execution!"

Where was the Goddess? How could anyone pardon or condemn in her name when she wasn't here?

"Monster! We know you've already slaughtered many of our fellow brethren like this!"

Rhea waved her hand, nodding for Shamir to follow some unspoken order. "This concludes the investigation. Please remove these poor, lost souls from my sight."

Blaise didn't dare blink as the prisoners were escorted out.

She supposed lost souls weren't worthy of salvation.

~FE~

This day had become way worse than she ever could have imagined. She felt like crawling in her bed and remaining there for the next week. The Black Eagles were shaken by Rhea's display which Manuela luckily took control of with all the skill her profession as a physician and a teacher gave her. Blaise even allowed her assurances to wash over her lest her own fragile mind explode.

Finally, as some of the drama began to fade and Blaise felt she couldn't handle one more event, Manuela noticed her waning energy and ordered her to her dormitory for some rest and not to emerge until the evening festivities.

Blaise didn't waste a second for the excuse to hide away.

She didn't retreat to her room, however. She was too wired, too stressed, too panicked, and, though the thought of laying in bed sounded heavenly, Blaise knew she would do nothing more than toss and turn. What she needed was answers to questions or to just rant and find a little understanding.

She could only think of one person who may not be burdened by such.

Leaving the monastery was easier than it should have been. She walked right out the front gate with not a guard in sight and promptly stopped short by the sight which greeted her.

It occurred to her quite suddenly that she had never seen Chevalier in the sun. It had always been night or beneath the ruins of Zanado or a dream where such details were skewed. There the Nabatean stood now, leaning against a tree, her gaze off in the distance on something Blaise couldn't fathom. Her armor reflected the sun so spectacularly it was nearly blinding. Chevalier turned her head as Blaise took a single step toward her and, though her lips quirked into a smile it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Before Blaise even knew what was happening, that tight ball of everything that had been steadily growing in her chest burst open. She slumped and, feeling very cold all of a sudden, her arms wrapped around herself as she stumbled toward Chevalier.

Chevalier was nothing more than a flash of green and silver before Blaise felt the steady caress of fingers through her hair. She leaned into it as the silence stretched between them reveling in the maternal motion she rarely realized she ached for.

**_I'm sorry. _**Her fingers fumbled her apology without knowing exactly what she was apologizing for.

Chevalier hummed, a soft soothing noise. "Walk with me, Névé?" she asked.

Blaise nodded and one of Chevalier's hands snaked down to take one of hers, gently leading her off the path and into the forest. Blaise dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her cloak as she regained some semblance of control. Weaving through the dense forest at Chevalier's direction, Blaise felt herself calmed by the rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds, the crunch of twigs beneath her feet. Chevalier paused at the edge of a stream, releasing Blaise's hand to claim a spot on a rock to sit. Blaise settled on the bank, unable to resist placing one hand in the refreshing mountain stream.

They were quiet, Chevalier staring out into the forest while Blaise couldn't take her gaze from the Nabatean from fear she would disappear. Instead, she drank in the sight of a sun-kissed Chevalier as beams of light penetrated the leaves, casting her in an iridescent glow.

"What was it you saw?" Chevalier eventually broke the silence between them with the guarded question.

Blaise only tilted her head. She'd been there, hadn't she? **_Don't you know?_**

Chevalier shook her head and faced Blaise with a strained sigh. She leaned toward the mercenary, clasping her hands together in front of her. "I do not. Certainly, I have a... fair idea but the exact nature of the event was not one I have encountered in my isolation," she admitted.

**_Why is it happening to me then? _**

Was she doing something wrong that was causing such adverse reactions?

"You may bear my crest the same as I, but the way we do so is distinctly different. In my youth, crests were as much an identifying characteristic as one's name. I knew beyond a doubt who was where in my proximity if I so desired to listen. Humans were never meant to bear them, and none are more obvious than my own. Your life alone is miraculous to me, each experience new." Her brow furrowed and Chevalier once again looked away, this time out over the rushing stream. "Those weapons did not exist until after..." Chevalier didn't complete her thought but trailed off with a hum.

After what?

The open-ended statement simply wasn't acceptable this time.

**_After?_**

Chevalier winced, inhaling a sharp breath before releasing it in a long, slow hiss. "The weapons came to be following my death…"

Blaise jolted at the statement even as the memory of the dark-haired woman's knife cutting into her back flashed through her mind. She instinctively twisted her arm around to massage the area.

"…I am afraid my life was the inspiration and my death allowed the first to be forged."

The weapons, Blaise realized. Chevalier was still talking about the weapons which seemed absurd to her when she hadn't moved past the dead part. Blaise stood quite suddenly, the motion drawing Chevalier's gaze back to her.

Blaise was used to staring at Chevalier. From the very first moment she had navigated Zanado in her sleep and found the other woman, Blaise had been taken. Taken by her familiarity, by her voice, the silent strength she portrayed, her beauty. Blaise had really thought she had been an angel at one time. An angel to counter the demon she was capable of being.

Yet, Blaise had never entertained the thought Chevalier was dead.

Graceful beyond mortal comprehension? Sure. Isolated? Certainly. Inexplicably perfect at Sign? Yes. An enigma who had the uncanny ability to be present to Blaise but evade others? Absolutely.

And maybe Blaise should have questioned that.

But, the thing was, Chevalier didn't look dead. She didn't even look like a ghost. She was every bit as corporeal as Blaise, her eyes just as bright as Rhea's, hair just as luscious as Edelgard's.

**_You don't look dead._**

It wasn't an observation given with any sense of delicacy, but she figured the absurdity of the entire situation made it okay.

However, Blaise still wasn't prepared for the laugh Chevalier responded with. It wasn't bitter or mocking. Simply amused which didn't compute in Blaise's brain.

"In a manner of speaking anyways. None of my people were given the luxury of rest after death and I am no exception."

She was making no sense. Were there a bunch of Nabateans hanging around somewhere? Were Nabateans immortal or something and just came back when they were killed? Blaise crossed her arms, staring and knowing her confusion was clearly expressed on her face.

"The weapons, Névé. Why do you think they cry out to you so? Forged from heart and bone of my people, their crests live within them. I hear them the same as you, their imprisonment binding me all these years."

The Crests… forced her here? Like the weapons forced the Crests to stay with them?

Blaise recalled the volatility of the Crests resonating with a relic. It was a wonder Chevalier was not insane or at least obviously so… or maybe she was. Maybe she just thought she was dead.

Images of the black-haired woman flashed behind her closed eyes.

Deciding for the moment the point wasn't worth arguing over, Blaise dropped back onto the bank in front of the stream.

"What did you see?" Chevalier repeated her question with an unusual sense of urgency. "I must know," she pleaded.

Blaise didn't look up from the water as the memories flashed across her mind. **_Zanado broken by the sword. Someone stabbed you in the back, a woman._**

"My mother."

Blaise jerked a second time. **_Your mother?_**

What kind of mother stabbed her daughter? Massacred her own people? Blaise knew she wasn't the most familiar with the relationship but that sounded wrong on so many levels.

"Yes."

**_That's horrid._**

"She believed she was doing right, I think."

**_How can that ever be right?_**

Chevalier hummed softly, expression distant once again. "My death may have been a sacrifice but, with it, lay all her hope. Giving everything in return for nothing. She was a brilliant woman but so terribly blinded. Somehow, I still pity her," she admitted.

**_ Are you the storm? From the lullaby?_**

Blaise hardly understood why she asked that question except the words rang in a loop of which sounded suspiciously like one of Rhea's mantras. A storm born, a fight to tear the stars, nothing left but a ruin. Images of Zanado flashed through her mind. Images of blood against white stone, of stars reflected in the shattered remnants, of Chevalier as she may have been held by her mother even as the mantra was recited back to her.

Had Chevalier understood in that moment or was it not until… after that the pieces clicked?

Sickening. All of this was.

Chevalier was clearly deeply troubled by the question, flinching before assuming a position as tense as a statue.

"I was. Now you are."

A shiver rippled down her spine. **_What does that mean?_**

"It means…" Chevalier paused, grimacing as she considered what she was about to say. "... there will be a choice to be made and they will be watching. Will you side with what is left of the Goddess or against?"

The Nabatean slowly rose to her feet and Blaise knew their conversation was coming to an end.

Chevalier also had a nasty habit of disappearing into thin air. Maybe she was a ghost.

Whatever. Blaise scrambled to her own feet, her mind racing with a million questions of which only a few could be addressed. The Goddess! That was what everything was really about. **_Is the Goddess really a goddess?_**

Chevalier's answer was nothing more than a breath on the wind. "She is my Goddess."

It left Blaise to wonder exactly what that meant. Rhea spoke of her with reverence, Chevalier… something else. Something soft and familiar and distinctly intimate. Like it wasn't for anyone else.

**_ Why have I not seen her?_**

If she existed, where was she? Decisions were made in her name but who was to say they were hers at all? Why did she speak to others but not to Blaise? Was Blaise's faith that insulting to her?

"Sothis was not omnipotent. She has been imprisoned with the rest of the fallen."

Blaise frowned. So, she wasn't here… and Blaise still didn't know her so...

**_ So what should I do? How do I know if I side with or against her?_**

Chevalier smiled, clasping Blaise's hands between her own. "You misunderstand, Névé. What is left of the Goddess and of Sothis is not mutually exclusive. As for what you should do, that is not a decision for me to make. I place my faith in you and promise to see you through it. l owe you that much at least."

No. You can't do that. Blaise wasn't a goddess. You couldn't put faith in someone who wasn't, right?

**_What if I do not choose what is right?_**

Really, Chevalier, do not say something you may regret. With a stab of realization, she recognized the thought as something eerily similar to what Edelgard had said to her.

Chevalier's response surprised her as usual. "Sometimes there is no right, only the perception of what is best. With that, I trust you."

~FE~

Blaise contemplated her discussion with Chevalier as she shuffled back towards her room. She was still confused, she still felt in the dark, but a few things made more sense and she did, at least, feel as if some of the pressure in her chest had been released.

She could probably function again.

So she thought until Balen practically appeared out of nowhere as she passed the dining hall and fell in step beside her.

He still carried that sword and Blaise instinctively stepped away, drawing her Crest tight against her.

It was uncomfortable, fighting what came to her so naturally. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins and her shuffle became more akin to the skittish steps of a deer in an open meadow.

Irritating but it beat burning alive.

Blaise didn't have anything to say to him. Not really. So she just walked toward the safety of her room where she could insist he leave her alone if he had nothing to say to her. She was climbing the stairs for the second floor when he finally spoke.

"How did they do?"

How did who do what?

Blaise raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to look at him.

"My students," he clarified. "What do you think?"

An unexpected question to say the least. Why did he want her opinion on the matter anyway?

She mentally berated herself as the question sounded more suspicious than surprised and she was glad she hadn't actually Signed it.

**_They did great. You didn't even really need me._**

An annoying pang of regret twisted her insides. She should have jumped in before Leonie had. Goddess knew when she would have another chance... or if. Her eyes flickered to the sword now buckled around his waist.

Balen straightened, Blaise suspecting he was pleased.

"You helped," he argued.

She didn't bother correcting him.

"I asked Rhea for you to join the Golden Deer next month," Balen continued.

Blaise nearly tripped over her own feet. **_What?_**

"We haven't had a chance to work together since we came here so l asked," he explained.

Oh, Balen…

He had to insist on it now? Her eyes flickered again to the sword and she nodded to it. **_Why do you still have that?_**

"It responds to me. Rhea requested I wield it for now."

Blaise felt her lip curl despite herself.

There was no denying it was compatible with him but that raised a series of questions. She wouldn't argue her brother had a resonating Crest with the weapon, but the Flame Emperor had said he was the only known bearer of said Crest. That could have been true as far as the Flame Emperor knew but... while the innate power of the Crests was the same, the Flame Emperor's and Balen's pulses didn't match.

That made no sense to her.

Could the Flame Emperor just be wrong? He hadn't been wrong about anything else...

She settled for something she could contemplate. **_You shouldn't use that sword._**

Balen paused, forcing Blaise to stop if she wanted to continue the conversation. She wasn't sure whether she did or not but stopped nevertheless.

He Signed instead of spoke his response. **_Why?_**

**_It …_**

Tried to kill her? Was alive and imprisoning his Crest?

**_...Put it down._**

Balen didn't move and only stared.

**_Just for a minute._**

Slowly and never taking his eyes from her, Balen complied, resting the weapon against the wall of the second-floor corridor.

The weapon's distance only made Blaise feel marginally safer, but she didn't know any other way to explain. Tentatively, she relaxed her hold on her own Crest, allowing it to venture out as she drew Balen's toward her. She pushed it through, raising one hand to hover over her brother's until the shadow of her Crest appeared in the space between them. It was comforting, soft and warm and more familiar than Edelgard's. Blaise sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, feeling much as she had when she was younger.

It ended abruptly when Balen jerked his hand away.

Blaise lowered hers, tilting her head at his reaction though she was suddenly reminded of when she'd first done the same to Edelgard. Had she freaked him out too? Balen didn't look at her as he reached back out for the sword and Blaise reacted by yanking her Crest back to her and releasing Balen's.

"The Goddess gifted the Heroes' Relics to humanity. To protect," Balen stated as he slowly drew the sword from its sheath.

Jumping back, Blaise hit the corridor wall. Static rippled through the air around them as the sword emitted the eerie red glow. Fear clawed at her heart as the weapon was turned toward her.

What was Balen doing?

She squared her shoulders, defensive in her vulnerability. **_To protect from what?_**

"Sinners who would raise their weapons against believers."

That sounded as if it came straight from Rhea's mouth and Blaise felt a current of anger mix with her fear. **_You act as if the Church isn't using fear tactics to maintain loyalty. Those weapons are nothing more than a visible threat to remind anyone who thinks differently of the Church's judgment._**

No expression from Balen but Blaise was suddenly reminded of stone.

**_I've heard what people whisper when they see Thunderbrand. Heroes' Relics are weapons rumored to have the power to cleave a mountain in half. And what else would you call that stunt in the audience chamber earlier? Rhea had every one of those prisoners executed, didn't she?_**

"They attacked us. It was a necessary response."

**_Necessary to force all the students to watch when two-thirds of them were uninvolved in the capture?_**

"It is better for them to understand what turning a weapon against the Church means."

**_Well, it worked. Everyone knows it means execution and it is all many will be reminded of when they see you with that sword. That isn't the way I would want to earn loyalty._**

Blaise turned on her heel, thoroughly done with this conversation, and stalked on down the corridor. She nearly stopped dead when she found Edelgard leaning against the door to her dorm, the girl fixing her with a disapproving frown. Damn, she was supposed to have been resting per Manuela's orders. No doubt Edelgard knew she wasn't now.

Edelgard pushed herself off the door, standing straight and opening her mouth to speak. Unfortunately, Balen must not have been as willing to let the conversation be over as he spoke, interrupting anything Edelgard had been about to say.

"Blaise, we are only following the doctrine set for us by the Goddess."

Blaise was acutely aware of how Edelgard rose one delicate eyebrow at that. Blaise spun on her brother, furious he was continuing this in front of Edelgard of all people. She didn't need the Imperial princess knowing her growing disdain for Fodlan's religion seeing as how intertwined the Empire was with it.

**_ Blindly._**

Just like how Chevalier's mother thought to sacrifice her own daughter for whatever belief she followed.

Such a waste.

She turned her back on him again, hoping he would take the hint. Instead, she gave her full attention to her visitor and bowed slightly in greeting.

Edelgard now had an expression that reminded Blaise of a hawk as she glanced between the twins. "I was hoping we could talk, Blaise, but perhaps I should come back later."

Balen would probably never leave and Blaise was quite ready to take her chances with Edelgard over him.

**_It's fine. I'd be happy to talk._**

In a manner of speaking.

Balen grabbed her wrist first and Blaise had to force a deep breath through her lest she wrench her arm from him. **_What is it, Balen?_**

He Signed. **_The Goddess…_**

**_Isn't here to make any decisions, Balen. _**

"Blaise …" Balen began again only for Blaise to interrupt.

**_Not now. I'm tired._**

Finally. Reluctantly. Balen let her go and Blaise hurried to get away from him.

Edelgard swooped in front as Blaise neared her door, opening it so the mercenary didn't even have to miss a step.

The cool air of her room was almost a shock to her system. A pleasant shock. She kicked the door shut and wasted no time once again discarding her sword and extra layers, scattering them as she crossed the room and fell face down on her mattress. Blaise reached one hand behind her head to grab her hair tie, pulling it to release the blue locks so they spilled messily over her shoulders.

"Manuela would not be pleased to know you weren't resting," Edelgard stated in that disapproving tone she was so good at.

Blaise inwardly groaned before lifting her head to glare at the princess. **_Just add the two of you to the list._**

She was certain it would soon include everyone in the monastery.

Edelgard pressed a hand to her temple as if fighting back a headache. Blaise heard more than saw the resulting sigh since she dropped back into her mattress. "I apologize. It is only that I was concerned and am now doubly so," she admitted.

Blaise lifted her head a second time. **_There is no reason for you to be concerned._**

Edelgard crossed her arms, a frown so deep on her features that Blaise was certain she didn't believe her. "Please, Blaise, everyone saw you were deeply distressed by whatever occurred in the Holy Mausoleum. I wish you had allowed some of us to accompany you, if only so I could better understand. Claude was not very forthcoming." That last sentence sounded irritated.

**_You asked him?_**

"A brief conversation I assure you."

Despite herself, Blaise's lips twitched upwards before the smile vanished. A sigh of her own escaped her lips and she stretched across to her desk to grab some paper.

_He wouldn't know anyways. They didn't notice._

Blaise steadied her hand, considering whether she should continue or not. Gritting her teeth, she did.

_Do you remember when I met Catherine?_

Edelgard's eyes flickered over the page and Blaise could practically see the gears turning in her head as she gave a short nod.

Interestingly, Edelgard had been the only person thus far to have noticed something happening to her. She recalled how frazzled and angry she had been dragging Blaise to her room all the while Blaise had never been confronted by anyone else in the audience chamber that day nor had any of the Golden Deer seemed amiss today. Why was that?

She swallowed hard.

That somehow made Edelgard one of the only people she could explain herself to.

_The Heroes' Relics bother me._

Blaise tensed in preparation of the "how" question and she looked elsewhere.

Sure enough, Edelgard followed with a "how is that?"

She bit her lip, inwardly debating what she should say. Surely Edelgard wouldn't believe her.

_You wouldn't believe me if I told you._

"Many people wouldn't believe what I told you the other night, but you did so without even questioning it." Edelgard moved slowly, one hand gripping the fingers of her white glove which she slowly drew from her hand, exposing the skin underneath.

At first, Blaise didn't understand why she slid the glove from her hand. She blamed the shadows of her room for covering the scars until Edelgard had marched nearly upon her and shoved her hand in Blaise's face.

And Blaise blinked as comprehension slowly dawned upon her. She flipped off her bed to stand, taking Edelgard's hand in hers.

She promptly frowned as she studied the mutilation of which had been hidden by the glove. Saying Edelgard was scarred was an understatement. There were scars and many of them but, in contrast to Blaise's, they were clean and straight. Purposeful yet numerous, crisscrossing with little thought and continuing on up her wrist until the princess's sleeve blocked her view. She followed them, carefully pushing the shirt up until it bunched at Edelgard's elbow. It wasn't until Blaise traced one which extended along the entirety of her forearm that Edelgard spoke again, a slight catch to her voice.

"They continue. Pretty much everywhere. They're hideous really."

Blaise glanced up to find Edelgard wasn't even looking but staring off over her shoulder.

Could she not stand to see them?

The thought was heartbreaking.

"The point is..." Her voice had regained its usual strength and, while she refused to look down at the hand Blaise still held, Edelgard's lavender gaze bored into the mercenary with the fire Blaise had once described as powerful, "… you didn't need to see this to believe me yet I trust you enough to show you. I swear to return the favor."

Blaise hesitated before she nodded, dropping Edelgard's hand to grab up her notebook. She would tell her something, but she wasn't sure what. Where would she even begin?

_I have dreams._

Having refitted her glove on her hand, Edelgard's brow furrowed at Blaise's writing. "Of what?" she prompted with an encouraging nod.

_Different things. Mostly of Chevalier or Zanado or both._

Blaise held her breath as she flipped the paper around for Edelgard to read. She was, once again, looking anywhere but at her and was glad her room was dark to hide the heat spreading across her face.

"I do recall Balen having mentioned you first saw your Crest in a dream. I assume that is one you speak of?"

She had actually forgotten about that. The Crest was imprinted on Chevalier's breastplate of her armor and she had drawn it on Balen's hand hoping he would recognize it. He hadn't but Edelgard had.

She nodded.

_When I first saw Thunderbrand, I felt like I was someplace else. Someone attacked me but they were stopped by another. I saw the red stone from the sword pulled from their chest. Their heart. It still beats the same now. _

_It is haunting._

Blaise didn't dare stop writing to look at Edelgard, afraid of what she might see.

_When Balen grabbed the sword in the mausoleum, I was in Zanado. I saw it destroyed by the sword, I saw the blood of their people pool on the white stone, I saw a man wielding that sword lead the massacre._

_The weapons make the Crests feel different. They don't reach out to me like they usually do but evade and remain with the weapon. They become unforgiving and volatile._

She practically threw the paper at Edelgard before she chickened out of giving it to her.

Minutes passed in silence as Edelgard's gaze remained on the paper and then shifted to stare into the corner of the room, her expression pensive. Blaise rocked back and forth on her feet until finally Edelgard spoke.

"Have you spoken to Rhea about this?" she asked.

Blaise grimaced.

_Not really. When I first came here, she told me a little about the Crest of Chevalier. She suggested I shouldn't use it but that was too hard, and we never spoke of it again._

"She told you not to use it? Truly?" Edelgard inquired. She crossed her arms, chin resting on one hand. "That's interesting to say the least," she mused so softly Blaise wondered if she was even meant to hear it.

Still, Blaise felt a little flicker of hope. Did she know something?

_What's interesting?_

"Hmm? Oh. Only that the Church excessively promotes Crests and their hierarchal caste system, yet Rhea tried to sweep yours under the rug. Yours which is clearly powerful and the only known of its kind. It is simply odd is all," Edelgard admitted. "Perhaps it was due to the presence of the relics and she knew you would react badly with them. The Church does consider the relics highly and there are more of them than you so, naturally, if you can't coexist you would be the one to be removed," she contemplated though there was something in her tone which suggested she thought that unlikely.

Blaise tilted her head.

_You think it's something else?_

Edelgard shrugged, brow furrowed. "I have another theory, but it is based off conjecture from sources the Church would deem questionable at best, blasphemous at worst. In short, Chevalier is only briefly mentioned by the Church of Seiros. She was said to be the Goddess's most rigorous defender and is believed to have been the prime example of chivalry to which standards the Knights of Seiros are held. However, certain sources also call Chevalier by another name. I stress it is debated whether the two names are truly for the same person but, for the sake of argument, we'll pretend so. Névé is said to have betrayed the Goddess resulting in the Goddess's demise as well as her own."

Blaise nearly dropped her notebook.

So that was why the Flame Emperor had told her not to call herself that in front of the Church... And explained why she couldn't find anything in the library. It was outside doctrine.

"If the idea even marginally brings doubts to Rhea's mind, I could see her being wary of your power. However, it is unprofessional of her to suggest the bearer of a Crest would represent its ancestor and, again, we're assuming a conjecture to be true," Edelgard stated.

But Blaise was hardly thinking of Rhea at this moment.

Chevalier and Névé may or may not have been the same person yet Blaise knew Chevalier was loyal to the Goddess. Betrayal seemed uncharacteristic and she could see the Church of Seiros doctrine being true in that respect.

Still, Blaise knew Chevalier was, in fact, fond of Névé so how could that be if Névé was believed to have betrayed and killed the Goddess who Chevalier was loyal to?

It made her wonder who the hell was Névé?

Her head was spinning so much, it wasn't until Edelgard took her hand that she realized the princess was watching her, brow furrowed. "I know it is not my place to say. I know what I heard and saw was not meant for me. However, as a friend and one of similar beliefs, I implore you to be careful. The Church is not lenient to those they consider heretics and what you have shared with me only adds to my concern. I do not wish to see you pay that price," she whispered.

… Similar beliefs?

Her heart leapt in her chest. There were other people here that were like her?

_You don't believe in the Goddess?_

Edelgard's features did a 180. Her face hardened, her eyes chilled, her hands released Blaise's to clench at her side. When she spoke, her voice was cold as ice. Blaise's only relief was that Edelgard's anger was not directed at her. "If there is a goddess then she watched as my family died around me. She listened as we cried for her help. She did nothing as we bled for the system she willed in place." Her tone clipped and she stood to her full height, expression guarded as if expecting Blaise to challenge her.

Blaise didn't, of course, only stepping back in deference in the hopes the act would soothe the suddenly agitated Edelgard.

She had seen that look before. Most often in a mercenary's eyes after a mission had gone wrong. Equal parts fear and blame.

Blaise waited patiently, exhibiting as unthreatening a posture as one could, for Edelgard to disengage.

It didn't take long, only a couple of minutes. The adrenaline left Edelgard as quickly as it came and she deflated, flinching before she sucked in a sharp breath. Blaise didn't need the ability to read minds to know she was berating herself. "I apologize. I did not mean for this conversation to devolve so."

Edelgard, don't you know there's nothing to apologize for?

Blaise was hardly fit to judge whatever coping mechanism she used against the nightmare she had endured. She smiled her most reassuring smile, moving her hand slowly so Edelgard had plenty of time to comprehend what she was doing as Blaise allowed it to rest on her shoulder. She gave it a squeeze just as her father had always done for her when she had needed assurance.

Edelgard blinked and looked elsewhere, red dusting her cheeks.

Blaise had the distinct feeling she was surprised. Then decided she looked tired and was reminded it had been a long day. **_You can sit._**

Edelgard's eyes snapped back to her at the motion. "Pardon?"

**_You can sit. If you want._** Blaise shrugged.

"Oh. Yes, actually." Edelgard scanned the room again until she determined there was only one option in terms of seating arrangements in the mostly bare room. She crossed to settle in the one chair which sat behind Blaise's desk then proceeded to say nothing while Blaise lowered herself to the edge of the bed.

"Let us speak of lighter topics," she suggested after Blaise was comfortable. "In truth, I came to give you something," Edelgard admitted and Blaise could see her flush spread even in the limited light.

Intrigued, Blaise felt a smile pull at her lips and she tilted her head in question.

"For your birthday. It is really from all the Black Eagles but…" Edelgard trailed off to dig in the pocket of her cloak, eventually pulling out a small box wrapped in red paper complete with a red and silver bow. "… I do hope you like it all the same."

All Blaise's worries and concerns disappeared in that moment as she eagerly accepted the little red box. _How'd you know it was my birthday?_

"You found out mine, so it was only natural that I learn yours. I will admit, your twin brother being in the Golden Deer made it easier. Claude was hardly secretive of the gathering he wanted to throw," she explained.

Blaise nodded. She could imagine that.

_Can I open it?_

Edelgard laughed softly and Blaise thought it a nice sound. "Of course."

Cutting a nail through the paper so she could lift up the lid of the box, Blaise was quickly staring down at the gift within. Nestled upon a minuscule pillow was a round pendant. Red in color, Blaise couldn't tell exactly what metal or stone it was made from, but a simple touch told her it was not shoddy material beneath the red. Printed in the middle in an onyx which contrasted beautifully with the crimson was the twin-headed eagle, the emblem of both the Black Eagle House and the Adrestian Empire. The pendant was attached to a chain Blaise was certain was fine silver. She pinched the chain between her fingers and the little box found its way on the floor as Blaise marveled her gift now resting in her hand.

Edelgard cleared her throat suddenly and Blaise glanced at her to find she was nearly as red as the pendant itself. She stood up abruptly (so much for sitting), nearly knocking the chair over, and bowed quite a bit lower than was typical of a noble to a commoner. "Although you are not a student at the Officer's Academy nor chosen as a professor, we of the Black Eagle House think of you as one of us and, to be frank…" Edelgard smiled then, "… we could not be happier than if you would join us, officially, as an honorary Black Eagle."

… Honorary Black Eagle? Was that even a thing? Officially so?

Sure, she had wished for such but ... how in the goddess' name did they pull that one off?

_Did you ask Rhea?_

Mentally, she smacked herself in the head. Something she really wanted and the first thing she asked about was Rhea? Luckily Edelgard seemed to understand and was not put out by such.

"First we took the suggestion to Sir Jeralt and he agreed the Knights of Seiros could spare you. Then he and Professor Manuela took it to Rhea. I was not privy to that conversation, but it is my understanding it was approved," Edelgard answered with a satisfied nod. "Of course, it is only if you desire it. Purely your own decision," she added hastily.

Blaise blinked. It was a "yes" a million times over for her but...

_Are you sure you want me in the Black Eagles?_

"Unanimously, myself and Professor Manuela included."

Blaise was probably grinning some stupid smile at that and so transferred her gaze to the Black Eagle pendant.

**_Okay._**

"Well then…" Edelgard's voice had shifted into something stronger and self-assured, Blaise looking up in time to see her bow a second time. "... May I be the first to officially welcome you to the Black Eagles, my teacher."

The pendant nearly slipped from Blaise's hand at that.

Teacher?!

_**A/N:**_

_Did I change a significant portion of my nonessential plans for the next couple of chapters just because Edelgard insisted on inviting Blaise into the Black Eagles which actually wasn't supposed to happen? Did I say "no" only for Edelgard to say "My Teacher" and my heart immediately get all mushy and I caved? Yes. Yes, that is exactly what happened and I have no regrets. No worries though, Manuela isn't going anywhere so you'll just have to stay tuned to see my creativity attempt to reconcile the change in plans._

_Blaise was invited to join both the Golden Deer (Balen) and Black Eagles (Edelgard) in one chapter. She's getting around and I wonder if circumstances will allow her to choose what she wants._

_We also learned a little about Chevalier and speculated a little more but how much is true and how much isn't?_

_As always, I hope everyone is doing well!_


	14. Chapter 13

Teacher?

Edelgard laughed, no doubt at her expression which could only be described as a deer facing down a fire spell. "You seem surprised, Blaise. What was it you were expecting when you said you wanted to be a Black Eagle? You are far too experienced to be a student."

Blaise flushed, admitting she hadn't actually thought that much into it. After all, it had been nothing more than a wish. Nothing practical.

Despite the shock, however, she was pleased. Very much so.

And the students were pleased, all seeming to know when she and Edelgard stepped into the dining hall that evening that she had accepted, ensuing quite an uproar.

And Manuela was pleased, the professor gushing more than Dorothea and insisting Blaise stop by the infirmary the next day to go over the students' progression files.

And her father, if she wasn't mistaken, looked at her with less concern.

Blaise quite enjoyed the Rite of Rebirth festivities, and she almost forgot how crappy the first two-thirds of the day had been.

Reality, however, was waiting as it ever was when Blaise left her room that next morning to come face to face with Balen outside her door. Her eyes were drawn instinctively to the Sword of the Creator, a name she had been informed of through an awestruck Caspar and Ferdinand the night before.

"Professor Hanneman requested we come by his office this morning," Balen stated.

Good morning to you too, Balen.

Blaise sighed, crossing her arms against her chest as she gave him a slight nod.

Professor Hanneman's office was just down the hall from the infirmary, and it would probably be a miracle if Manuela was conscious this early after such a night of hardcore partying anyways.

She followed her brother with more of a reluctant shuffle, contemplating what Hanneman had to say now. Obviously, it was Crest related. Balen's had now been revealed as the Crest of Flames so she could understand the Crest Scholar wanting to see him, but Blaise's Crest of Chevalier was old news by now.

Once inside his office, Blaise remained by the door.

"Ah! Good of you to come, Professor, and with Ms. Eisner too. Good morning. I trust all has been well so far?" Professor Hanneman greeted with shocking cheer for this early in the morning.

Blaise nodded politely, Balen answering with a simple "Yes."

The Crest Scholar nodded enthusiastically, fingers stroking his beard as he considered them. "Good. Good. I have unearthed some information regarding your Crests I imagine the two of you will find interesting. Professor…" Hanneman turned on her brother with an expression that reminded Blaise of a child in a candy store. "...It occurred to me weeks ago what was visible was only a small part of a greater whole, a problem I believe to be the complexity of your Crest was far too high for the sensitivity of my equipment. The Crest of Flames, the Crest of the Goddess herself, and a Crest thought to have disappeared from this world in the millennium since the fall of Nemesis, King of Liberation. That is what you possess," he announced with grand fervor. "Wielding the Sword of the Creator is undeniable proof."

His exclamation was met with silence, and Blaise hid a smile behind her hand.

It was reassuring to know some things were the same.

"The Crest of the Goddess…" Balen mused in a whisper after he apparently picked up he should say something. He trailed off quickly however, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.

Professor Hanneman coughed and turned his attention instead to wiping down his monocle to hide his disappointment in Balen's reaction to his discovery.

"And you, Ms. Eisner…" the professor shifted his enthusiasm on Blaise. "... the bearer of the Crest of Chevalier! Lost to time as well and to appear in conjunction with the Crest of Flames and within the same family to boot... I can barely contain my excitement. Surely you must understand what this means to Fodlan?"

She didn't and, despite knowing Balen wouldn't offer a response even if he did know, she shot a glance at him.

"Why, the two of you… well, to be rather blunt, could have more influence than any other single person on the continent. As commoners, no less! You have the potential to completely transform Fodlan's working politics!"

Blaise tilted her head.

Dramatic much?

Balen did nothing more than blink at the declaration.

Overall, Professor Hanneman was not impressed by their lack of response and sighed. "Youth these days," he huffed. "Very well, I will continue my research and relay any findings to you as always. That is all I have for now," he dismissed.

Blaise, quite suddenly, found herself standing in the corridor next to her brother and staring at the closed door of the Crest Scholar's office. Several seconds passed where the twins considered the door in their face in silence.

Finally, Balen crossed his arms, his armor clinking softly. "We offended him," he stated.

Blaise was a little surprised he'd picked up on that but made no mention of it. Instead, she agreed with a simple nod.

"Maybe you should have smiled," Balen suggested.

Blaise did look at him then, raising an eyebrow. Was he… teasing her? It was hard to tell with the little inflection in his voice and no expression. Still, she kind of thought he was.

She clicked her tongue.

Two could play at that game.

_**You could smile, you know.**_

"Hilda says my smiles are worse than Marianne's and I heard hers scared Ashe."

She snorted at the thought of the Blue Lion's archer afraid of Marianne. _**That's ridiculous.**_

Blaise hoped Hilda knew how lucky she was to have seen Balen smile at all. Stupid as it was, she still hoped she might get to see one herself one day.

One day.

She didn't notice in her melancholy their father sidle up behind them.

"There you two are. Lady Rhea is ready to present the classes' next missions. I told Manuela and she said she would meet you in the audience chamber. The two of you should go on. The inquisition of the Western Church has Seteth more impatient than usual," Jeralt admitted.

The twins nodded in that synchronized way only twins managed to be able to do before they set off down the corridor, leaving their father to knock on Hanneman's door.

She looked in the opposite direction of Balen as they walked, making a show of considering the artwork. She noted a lot of the people in the paintings sported hair of varying shades of green.

Curious.

A tap on her shoulder drew her back from following that train of thought. Balen was Signing to her.

_**Does Seteth glare at you as much as he does me?**_

He… was being conversational? And in Sign? He could have just spoken. It was … odd.

His question did catch her attention though. Did Seteth still give Balen a hard time? The thought, selfish as it was, made her feel a little bit better that it wasn't just her, and she was able to find some amusement in his question.

She smiled just a little.

_**Probably not but only because he never looks at me.**_

_**You're not missing out.**_

Blaise smiled wider.

They had fallen into something Blaise would call comfortable when they entered the audience chamber though it immediately soured for Blaise as Rhea glanced at her before focusing entirely on Balen.

She faltered with a grimace she couldn't quite fight back.

Balen notably paused beside her. Waiting.

And it weirded her out in how he hadn't done such for her in so long yet comforted her in it's familiarity all the same.

Blaise thought she saw Rhea's eyes narrow.

_**We could go fishing.**_

Now Blaise was staring at Balen too for that very random comment. Was it bad she had forgotten how random he could be?

_**Fishing?**_

_**Yes. Father told me you were going to work with the Black Eagles instead, but maybe we can still go fishing.**_

Ahh… he still wanted to hang out. And that actually sounded kind of nice.

_**I do like to fish.**_

She swore his eyes actually lit up at her response. It wasn't a smile, but she would take it.

And it made it significantly less painful to cross the chamber to stand in Rhea's presence. The Archbishop inclined her head in greeting, that sweet smile she mostly reserved for Balen lighting her face. She spoke to Balen as they waited, something about tea later which Blaise steadfastly ignored.

Then Seteth swept in, his robes billowing behind him. His eyes took them in for the briefest of seconds. "Great. The two of you are here. Where is Manuela? I specifically said to be here at 8 o'clock sharp."

Blaise had half a mind to not answer, but she didn't really need them to have a worse impression of her, and Balen didn't seem to be in a hurry to respond. _**Father said she was on her way.**_

"The nerve of that woman," Seteth complained before fixing his sharp gaze on Blaise. "Since you are to be taking a more official role with the Black Eagles perhaps you can use some of the skills I saw you possess working with the Knights of Seiros to ascertain the assessments and certification papers for the students are presented in a timely manner. I have received nothing on the Black Eagles in nearly two months."

That… didn't actually surprise Blaise that much, thinking of Manuela and all.

"Peace, Seteth. Manuela's heart is in the right place, and she does a wonderful job shaping the students into respectable members of the flock," Rhea assured.

Blaise had a mental image of Hubert and nearly snorted. Had Rhea not seen the Black Eagles at all? She refrained from bringing that kind of attention upon herself and, luckily, Manuela chose that moment to throw open the audience chamber doors.

Manuela was, predictably, disheveled from a long night. Her face was drawn and tired and kind of pale like she felt sick. Her clothing was wrinkled as if she had grabbed the first thing she found off the floor. She rested one hand against her head as she drew level with them. "Seteth, dear, an 8am meeting on the day following a major holiday? That should be a crime."

"I apologize, Manuela…" Seteth crossed his arms, hardly sounding at all sorry, "... however we have learned some disturbing news overnight and our students must be prepared adequately by the end of the month," he insisted.

Manuela casually waved her hand. "Sure. Sure. Get it over with," she allowed with a pained groan.

"Originally, the Blue Lion House and the Black Eagle House were going to help the knights purge the Western Church while the Golden Deer would investigate some unsettling rumors of a man wielding a scythe and terrorizing the local villages..." Blaise glanced up, an image of the knight in black armor she had seen in the mausoleum coming to mind. He worked for the Flame Emperor, didn't he? She shifted uneasily. "However, Professor Hanneman was briefed earlier of his new mission to investigate said rumors..."

"And the Black Eagles?" Manuela prompted shortly. Clearly, she was in no mood to hear about Hanneman's class.

Rhea was the one who spoke this time, nodding to Manuela. "Due to the nature of this mission, I have agreed to Professor Balen's earlier request to work with his sister..."

Blaise's heart skipped a beat, thoughts of the dark knight vanishing. Was she not going to get to work with the Black Eagles after all?

"With all due respect, Lady Rhea, Blaise was just transferred to the Black Eagles and ..."

Rhea raised a hand so that Manuela cut off. "You misunderstand, I am not taking Blaise from the Black Eagle House. Rather, the Black Eagles will be working with the Golden Deer for the duration of this mission. I trust the three of you can work together and adequately prepare the students."

Manuela frowned and asked the question Blaise was certain even Balen was thinking. "What is this mission?"

"I would like you to take your students into Kingdom territory to eliminate some thieves," Rhea answered.

That sounded oddly normal so what was the catch?

"They stole a Hero's Relic from House Gautier of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus- the Lance of Ruin. Their leader's name is Miklan. He is apparently a disowned son of House Gautier," Seteth explained.

Another Hero's Relic? Quite a catch.

Manuela echoed her thought. "Another attempt at a Hero's Relic? And from the Kingdom too…"

Blaise attempted to keep a neutral expression despite the disgust she felt over the weapon. If she wasn't mistaken, Balen glanced at her.

"Why must the Church eliminate him?" Balen questioned.

"This skirmish involves a Holy Relic and is, therefore, more than a single noble is capable of resolving. The Heroes' Relics are immensely powerful weapons. We must meet this threat with adequate force. Unfortunately, most of the Knights of Seiros are away from the monastery so we are entrusting your two houses with this mission. After all…" Seteth now looked directly at Balen, "... you wield the Sword of the Creator which is more than capable of opposing any Relic."

Blaise noted Seteth's response really didn't answer her brother's question. Not that she was surprised by that.

She had bigger concerns to think of anyways.

The Black Eagles were being put against a Hero's Relic, a weapon Blaise was certain to feel threatened by even without the students' presence. How much worse will it be with them there? And with Balen wielding the Sword of the Creator too...?

Of all the missions for Rhea to agree to Balen's wishes...

Blaise chanced a look at Rhea, the Archbishop's eyes for Balen only and gleaming with pride.

Suspicion squirmed in her stomach.

As if sensing her gaze, Rhea's eyes flickered to hers, and she swore they were sharper, distant, cold even. Blaise was struck with her conversation with Edelgard the afternoon before.

Was Rhea sending Blaise simply because Balen asked, or was there another motive? Surely she knew Blaise didn't mix well with the Relics…

~FE~

Blaise spent the first few days of the Verdant Rain Moon getting used to her new assignment, most notably that evil thing called a schedule. Even as a mercenary where they were consistently up at dawn, marching and completing long lists of chores, Blaise had never had her time so micromanaged.

It was also harder than Blaise imagined to know what was going on. She was pretty sure that was mostly because Manuela never seemed to make any kind of plans, her lectures made up on a whim, and, while that worked for the former Songstress, Blaise was left confused on what they were supposed to be talking about. It didn't help Manuela's curriculum was spread in random places from the Black Eagles' classroom to her office and around the infirmary.

It was no wonder Seteth had gotten no updates on the students' progress in two months (and Blaise found out later the last one he had received was the observations and suggestions she had written out from that day she'd sparred with the group).

So, while she tried to get a feel for Manuela's teaching style, Blaise sat at a desk writing out reports for Seteth so he had some idea where the students were at.

More unsettling to her were the growing rumors she heard of the Death Knight and his possible connection to the Flame Emperor.

The situation bothered her.

She was already miffed the Flame Emperor had found it acceptable to deceive another group and leave them to face the consequences. Granted, the priests of the Western Church could have been lying about being deceived. They could have known and been attempting to garner enough sympathy to avoid execution. The rumors of the Death Knight could just be that. Rumors. A distraction to draw some of the Church's strength while the Flame Emperor mitigated the damage the Knights of Seiros committed against the Western Church.

Maybe? It was possible, right?

In that case, it was okay she didn't tell anyone about the Death Knight and the Flame Emperor and the Western Church...

The Flame Emperor didn't know her and, yet, had decided to help her, and even offered to let her leave with enough gold to live comfortably wherever she wished. He was willing to not hurt the students per her request.

So why then did she feel so guilty? Why did she feel like her head didn't agree?

She wondered if she'd made a mistake. She wondered if she was still making a mistake, staying silent.

If the Flame Emperor had deceived the Western Church and left them to face Rhea's judgement… what made Blaise, and the Black Eagles by proxy, any different to him?

That first Sunday of Verdant Rain Moon, Blaise left the monastery before dawn. She knew the chances of meeting the Flame Emperor in Zanado without an invitation were slim to none, but she had no way to contact him herself and he had yet to reach out to her.

It was the best she could do given the circumstances.

It was a cloudy day with an off/on chilly drizzle that had soaked through her cloak by the afternoon. She simply lay on the empty roof where they had previously met.

Waiting.

Just in case.

She never saw him.

The clouds parted briefly as she left late in the night, a single star shining it's light on the broken path before her. Her eyes downcast, she paused, considering it. It's reflection should have been smooth, but was instead fractured, casting the light in a myriad of directions.

Blaise knelt down, her finger tracing the delicate scars of the shattered stone.

It was still beautiful, she thought. Looking out over Zanado, all the cracks scattered light like fireflies.

But it would have been beautiful too unblemished.

She imagined a reflection so perfect it would have been like walking among the stars.

Yes, that would have been nice. To be one with the stars.

Now they were torn.

She was quite cold when she pulled her hand from the stone and finally resumed her journey back to Garreg Mach.

~FE~

The next day was the complete opposite. It was hot, like Blue Sea Moon hot, and not a cloud in the sky. It was humid too, and the air was heavy and sticky.

She ran into Dorothea as she passed the dormitories, and the Songstress fell into step with her, wasting little time in discussing her plans for a small opera she was preparing in the cathedral. "You will come won't you, Blaise?"

Blaise ignored how Dorothea fluttered her eyelashes at her.

Dorothea had no need to turn on the charm anyway.

It was an opera after all!

Blaise had never attended an opera which was typically more for nobles or the generally wealthy, but Dorothea and Manuela had acted out enough by now she thought she might like them.

_**Are you singing?**_

"Of course, I was only a diva of the Mittlefrank Opera Company for years," Dorothea laughed before her smile faltered and she paused to face her directly. "It doesn't bother you, does it? I mean, you don't have to come if you don't want to. I would completely understand," she assured her.

Blaise didn't like the shift in tone. Go back to being excited, Dorothea!

_**I love singing.**_

Dorothea's resulting smile was nothing short of brilliant. She linked their arms together. "I knew it! I'm going to give you the best seat in the house."

_**Really? **_

Dorothea was walking again, Blaise practically bouncing around.

"Yeah. Edie's not as excited as you so you can have her seat."

Blaise's horrified expression at the thought of stealing the future Emperor's seat must have been amusing as Dorothea burst out laughing. Worse, the Songstress didn't take the statement back as she led the way inside the classroom.

Said princess was the first person Blaise saw, her sharp lavender eyes narrowing at the guilty Blaise and the giggling Dorothea. "Should I even ask, Dorothea?" Edelgard inquired.

"It's nothing, Edie. Blaise was just more excited about my opera than you so I gave her your seat," Dorothea admitted, abandoning Blaise's arm to lean against Edelgard's desk and flashing that same brilliant smile at the other girl. "You don't mind, do you? You can still have the second best seat in the house."

Edelgard hummed dismissively which Blaise took to mean she wasn't overly offended. "Have you decided which opera you are performing yet?"

Dorothea twisted around so her back now leaned against Edelgard's desk, one finger tapping her chin in thought. "I have not," she sighed. "I could do the classic opera fare. Everyone adores a tragic love story… but something different is also enticing." She spun suddenly to smile ,once again, at Edelgard. "There's always your opera, Edie," she teased.

Edelgard nearly turned as red as her uniform, one hand massaging her temple. "Oh, please, Dorothea…" she groaned.

Blaise practically jumped across the classroom, shoving her hand in Dorothea's face. _**Edelgard has an opera?**_

"No!" Edelgard snapped even while Dorothea straightened proudly.

"I've been writing it," the Songstress announced with a wink at a flustered Edelgard. "Would you like to hear the main theme?"

Would she ever?!

_**Yes!**_

Edelgard shot up from her seat so fast the chair tipped over and crashed into the ground behind her. "Dorothea, I swear if you start singing that I'm going to..."

What exactly Edelgard was going to do Blaise wasn't sure as Dorothea erupted into a grand song which drowned out the princess's threat.

"_Hail the mighty Edelgard though red blood stains her story._

_Heavy as her crown may be she will lead us all to glory._

Blaise's first thought was that opera singing was very different from the drunken tavern singing she was used to. Dorothea's singing held a formality to it, and each note was sang to highlight her obvious talent. In a tavern, it hardly mattered if one had a talented voice or not, you sang anyways.

"_To a brighter dawn we shall carry on._

_Hail Edelgard_!"

Mortified was the best description Blaise could think of to describe Edelgard's expression as Dorothea let the last note carry before dipping into a formal bow. So mortified in fact, Edelgard didn't move or speak in the moments following, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her face was most definitely brighter than her uniform.

It was one of the few times Blaise was actually glad she couldn't make many sounds because she was finding it nearly impossible to not giggle. Still, she decided it was probably best to give Edelgard a reprieve and so searched her cloak for her notebook.

She winked to Dorothea to express her enjoyment of the song before abruptly changing the subject.

_We really should be preparing for class. We're working with the Golden Deer today._

Dorothea, still beaming, went right along as if nothing had happened. "Are they coming here?"

_No. We're meeting at the training grounds._ She paused, frowning at the mage. _Actually, Manuela is taking everyone interested in white magic to work in the infirmary. Linhardt, Marianne, and Lysithea are meeting there already. You can join them too if you would like, otherwise, you can join the rest of us on the training grounds._

"Mmm… As much as I would love to work out in the heat, I must say remaining comfortable and cool in the infirmary sounds so much more appealing," Dorothea admitted.

Ferdinand chose that moment to waltz in with a jaunty greeting of "such a fine morning can only mean that today is the day I, Ferdinand von Aegir, will surpass the great Edelgard in whatever manner of learning we are doing today!"

Edelgard refused to acknowledge him with anything beyond a roll of her eyes. Blaise suspected she was still recovering some of her pride.

"You may want to rethink that, Ferdie," Dorothea returned in a falsely sweet voice. "Manuela is working with the white mages separately and will miss your accomplishment. You know she would be beside herself to miss it."

Ferdinand gasped and Blaise couldn't tell whether he was being dramatic on purpose or not. "You are, of course, correct. In that case, I must hold myself back today, Edelgard. Never fear, however, as I will forever deign to give you a challenge," he assured.

"Oh and here I was getting concerned," Edelgard drawled.

_Everyone will be sparring with someone from the Golden Deer._

Edelgard brightened at that. "A welcome change of pace, my teacher."

"I must admit I, too, am quite eager to show them the strength of the esteemed Black Eagle House," Ferdinand agreed.

"I believe this is my cue to leave. I will see everyone this afternoon," Dorothea dismissed herself with a cheerful wave.

Hubert slipped in as the songstress was leaving, going directly to Edelgard and bowing. "I successfully delivered your letter to be sent to the capital with utmost haste, Lady Edelgard."

"Thank you, Hubert."

He bowed a second time before facing Blaise. "I take it you will be overseeing our class?" he asked.

_**Yes. **_

Hubert let out a "hmpf." "I look forward to your criticism."

What an odd thing to say, but, then, it was Hubert.

Petra and Caspar came in together with Bernadetta trailing a safe distance behind.

"Alright! We have Blaise! I am so ready for today's match. Please tell me we are sparring today," Caspar exclaimed the moment his gaze took in Blaise's presence. Blaise simply nodded and he pumped his fist. "Match one, you and me, Blaise," he insisted, waving a hand between the two of them.

Petra copied Caspar's movement, pumping her fist, albeit with more control. "I am full of preparation, Blaise. I have trained much and will be beating you," she exclaimed.

"Blaise isn't sparring. We will be working with the Golden Deer in the training grounds," Edelgard cut in even as Blaise smirked at their confidence.

While she doubted they would be able to beat her in a sparring match, she couldn't deny how curious she was to see how they've improved.

"What?! Oh, come on, Edelgard," Caspar whined his disappointment.

"The Golden Deer, huh?" Hubert mused, one hand moving to rub his chin. "How intriguing. This may be an excellent opportunity to measure our skills against theirs with the Battle of the Eagle and Lion fast approaching," he remarked.

Blaise didn't tell him she didn't know what the Battle of the Eagle and Lion actually was.

"Aw... don't remind me," Bernadetta whimpered, noticeably scooting closer to Blaise and clinging to her arm. "Can I just stay here? I promise I'll study," she pleaded.

Blaise shook her head, but patted Bernadetta's hand soothingly. _**I'm going to help you.**_

"Well… if you promise..."

_**I do.**_

"Might I suggest, since everyone is present, we depart?" Ferdinand offered.

Blaise agreed, nodding toward the door for everyone to head on out.

The Black Eagles walked at an easy pace, yet Blaise could already feel the beginnings of a sweat by the time they'd arrived at the training grounds. The Golden Deer were already there, most of them still in the process of gathering together their training gear to which the Black Eagles dispersed to do as well.

Balen met her outside the stockroom, his arms crossed as he glanced up at the sky. "It's hot," he stated.

Yes. Dangerous sparring weather in it's own right.

_**One on one sessions? Everyone else can rest in the shade, stay hydrated.**_

Balen nodded. "I told my class no horses, pegasi, or wyverns," he added.

_**Fair.**_

It would be hard enough to keep the students hydrated without having to worry about their mounts.

Looking over the Black Eagles, Ferdinand was the only serious rider anyway. Bernadetta was learning but, otherwise, everyone else preferred to stay on the ground at this point in their training.

"Hey, Teach, the Golden Deer are ready whenever the Black Eagles are," Claude called which was quickly followed by a slightly miffed Edelgard.

"The Black Eagles are prepared."

Claude grinned, stretching his arms behind his head. "Are you sure, Princess? I won't judge if you'd rather stick to sparring your own House."

"Nice try, Claude. You won't be getting out of losing that easily," Edelgard snapped.

Blaise frowned.

This was going to be a long mission in many ways.

She was surprised, however, how easily it was to fall into sync with Balen. It took only minutes to finalize their plans. She allowed Balen to give the students the rundown since he'd have to explain to his own house anyways, and then allowed him to choose his first student.

His gaze barely scanned his students before he called out "Leonie."

"Professor!" Leonie was on her feet in seconds at an attention that put many of the knights to shame.

Blaise frowned again and not just because Leonie was one of her least favorite people. Leonie was, also, probably one of Balen's best fighters given her training with Balen and Jeralt. That automatically nixed all the Black Eagles from being able to keep up except maybe Edelgard and Petra.

With that in mind, Blaise waved to her House Leader.

Blaise could admit a selfish desire to beat Leonie, and she suspected Edelgard was her best bet.

They took a few minutes to prep their chosen students, Balen whispering whatever strategy he had to Leonie while Edelgard mused her thoughts of her opponent aloud.

"Leonie. Skilled with a lance and a bow, but she favors horseback. That will put her at some disadvantage here, yes?" Edelgard guessed.

Blaise wasn't so sure. Leonie had put up quite the fight in the Holy Mausoleum even without her steed. _Some but I wouldn't count on it. You know black magic, right?_

"I would not call myself an expert, but I have some experience."

_Try magic. See how she fares. At least use it to counter her bow until you can get close. Once close, your axe will have the advantage. Don't underestimate her. Remember she has trained with both Balen and my father._

Edelgard gave a self-confident nod, swinging her axe down in a precise warm up maneuver to loosen her muscles. "Understood. I will take the offensive," she agreed.

Blaise gave her a thumbs up as she stepped out of the way. Balen followed soon after, nodding when Blaise Signed a quick "_**Ready."**_

Their two students took off at Balen's signal, Leonie firing off an arrow from her bow before Edelgard did more than take two steps. Edelgard was not as proficient at black magic as Blaise would have liked, the Imperial princess not fast enough at casting to block the first arrow. She barely managed to heft her axe in time to send it careening harmlessly away. However, by the time Leonie's second and third arrows were upon her, Edelgard had made up for the slower start with a fire spell strong enough to disintegrate the arrows and continue it's way to bear down on Leonie.

The Golden Deer student notably disengaged to roll out of the way of the spell. Landing on her feet, her bow, and a move Blaise recognized from her father, was the only thing which kept Leonie in the fight. The curved body of the bow caught the head of Edelgard's axe, stopping it's descent shy of causing any damage.

Blaise had to refrain from wincing as Leonie twisted her bow in a clear attempt to wrench Edelgard's axe from her grip. Images of that bandit leader succeeding in such a maneuver only a few months previously drew some added concern.

Unnecessary concern, it seemed, as Edelgard had improved her grip since then and was stubbornly refusing to fall for the same move twice.

Ultimately, the bow simply couldn't hold up to the axe in such a position and it gave out with a loud crack. Leonie let it drop, Edelgard unbalancing at the sudden loss of resistance, giving the Golden Deer student time to draw her lance.

Axe and lance met with an echoing snap, Leonie stumbling back a step from such a direct hit from Edelgard. Leonie quickly changed maneuvers as Edelgard pressed forward with swing after powerful swing of her axe. She dodged around and used her lance's longer reach to try and keep Edelgard at bay with a series of jabs.

Edelgard did have trouble blocking them at first, but they did little to slow her down, and she quickly fell into a rhythm of using her axe to bat the lance away, leaving Leonie open until the Imperial Princess landed one good hit on her opponent's left shoulder.

Balen called the end of the match, and the Black Eagles exploded in cheers for their House Leader.

In a rare expression of youthful cheer, Edelgard beamed as she rested her axe against her shoulder and returned to Blaise's side. "How was that, my teacher?" she asked.

_Immensely satisfying._

Take that, Leonie, for all your jealousy-inducing habits.

Edelgard stood straighter at the praise though her smile shifted to something more pensive. "I should have been faster in the start. Her aim was impeccable and I was not fast enough with my spell," she mused.

Blaise nodded and scribbled "speed of spellcasting" on a sheet of paper before shifting her quill to the adjacent page.

_Your skill with the axe is sufficient but we need to expand your technique against opposing weapons. You fight as if everyone wields an axe. You should have had an easier time with Leonie's lance._

_Also, did you notice how keen she was to dodge your fire spell? Once her bow was out of the fight, you may have been better off falling back out of her reach to try another spell instead of taking hits from the lance. You never know in a real battle if your opponents will keep coming and you need to be better at preserving yourself._

_Do you agree?_

Edelgard pursed her lips slightly as she read over the observations. "I do not find it easy to switch between axe and magic quickly, but I see your point and it's benefits," she admitted.

_Seamless switching of weapon types is advanced, but I think you are far enough along we should dabble with it. Manuela is very good at it. You'll be able to pick it up quickly._

"Understood. I look forward to it," Edelgard agreed.

Blaise smiled and added her other suggestions to the list she then tore from her book and gave Edelgard with a final encouraging squeeze of her shoulder.

Leonie had returned to the Golden Deer by the time Blaise looked over at Balen for him to nod to her. _**Your turn.**_

Blaise forced her self-conscious feelings of her slow pace away and hurriedly chose her next student. She pointed to Ferdinand.

Balen chose Lorenz.

And, while the point was to spar against someone with similar abilities for maximum growth, Ferdinand and Lorenz may have been too similar. What started out as an interesting lance practice quickly devolved into a political discussion of the nobility between bouts of half-attempted swipes of the lance. On more than one occasion, they stopped altogether simply to discuss boundaries, duties, and, of all things, tea.

After the fifth or so time, Balen called the match a tie.

And so they went.

Balen brought Claude forward.

Not comfortable with sending Bernadetta to spar with Claude, Blaise chose her only other strict long-range fighter and waved for Hubert.

This battle was more akin to Edelgard and Leonie's match. Claude and Hubert both possessed a tactician's mind and were not above gaining the upper hand at any cost though Claude was significantly more personable with his approach.

With an easy grin, the Golden Deer's House Leader eventually riled Hubert up enough the mage sacrificed speed to power, and Claude caught him with a practice arrow to the heart. Claude bowed dramatically to his housemates while Hubert stalked back to Edelgard's side.

Blaise had to follow him to give him her written thoughts. She assumed he wouldn't appreciate her telling him she'd thought he'd put up a good fight so she simply passed him the paper and pulled Caspar along with her to the sparring ring.

Caspar and Raphael made a good match. They were both exuberant with their training with similar thought processes but differing styles. Caspar had taken to brawling with gauntlets and outpaced Raphael's axe with relative ease, earning another win for the Black Eagles. Raphael wasn't upset in the slightest and even asked to go another round with gauntlets himself which she and Balen allowed before having to usher them off for the next pair.

Ignatz and Bernadetta was borderline a disaster. Blaise stood closer for Bernadetta's security, yet her skittish archer took that to mean she could use Blaise as a shield, aiming her bow over Blaise's shoulder but never actually firing it. Ignatz, for his part, was simply too concerned for Bernadetta to begin the match, especially with Blaise in the way.

It took several minutes for Balen to convince Ignatz just to hit Blaise.

Then, once he did, Bernadetta retaliated with a, frankly, beautiful shot that would have hit Ignatz in the head had Balen not cut the practice arrow out of the air with his sword.

Hilda and Petra were the last to spar and, while Blaise knew Hilda was quite the soldier and it could have been a fun fight, it seemed being on the training grounds in the sun and without an actual threat was not much of a motivator for Hilda. She didn't even try to dodge and only blocked Petra's sword enough to keep the hit from bruising.

Balen rolled his eyes at the performance in probably the first sign of annoyance Blaise had ever seen from him.

She refrained from laughing.

Dismissing the students for a short water break, Blaise and Balen reconvened to switch some groups around with the idea to let them branch off together to learn from each other and practice their criticisms.

Caspar and Raphael and Bernadetta and Ignatz remained paired with little thought. Hubert and Claude also stayed paired despite Blaise's concern that Hubert wouldn't be receptive. Still, she and Balen agreed Claude could put up with him for another hour or so.

After a fair amount of deliberation, they decided Ferdinand and Lorenz could stay together since camaraderie for the upcoming mission was also important. In the end, they simply switched Edelgard and Petra, more for Petra's benefit of needing a challenge than any other reason. It was a thought that, perhaps, Edelgard could at least get Hilda to exchange some axe-wielding tips if nothing else.

Assuming Hubert could manage to refrain from poisoning Claude later, Blaise thought the day an overall success. Both classes had been far enough along they knew exactly how their classmates sparred and it was good for them to switch it up.

She felt Balen's presence suddenly draw up beside her as she was watching Petra and Leonie begin a dance of sword and lance. She tilted her head to look at him, his fingers already forming a question that had her raising an eyebrow.

_**Do you want to spar?**_

...

Did she? Yes.

Should she?

Her eyes flickered to the Sword of the Creator.

Balen must have sensed her apprehension though she doubted he knew exactly why. "We could use training swords," he suggested.

But that felt cheap. She and Balen had never sparred with training swords.

There was also the fact she knew they were going on a mission against a Hero's Relic. Maybe she should just embrace it instead of avoiding it. Better to know now while she had the luxury of being prepared.

_**No training swords. **_

Balen watched her with narrowed eyes, feeling very much like he was searching for something. _**Are you sure?**_

Not at all.

Blaise forced a smile and wandered a fair distance away from the occupied students, drawing her sword from it's sheath. _**Yeah. It'll be fun.**_

Her response seemed to be good enough for him as he followed and positioned himself across from her.

Blaise took a deep breath and, not feeling particularly risky, drew Edelgard's Crest to surround her with perhaps more fervency than necessary. She could practically feel the lavender eyes boring into her back as she did so. A vague tensing through the pulse that suggested Edelgard was ready to fight her back if she needed to.

She ignored it.

Balen was a difficult enough opponent without being distracted.

So intent on him she was, it was almost like slow motion as he unsheathed the Sword of the Creator, the weapon emitting the soft red glow at his touch.

There was a bit of a rush in the air around her, a subtle shifting as Balen's Crest, no longer free, snapped taut around Balen and his sword. The pulse amplified like the beat of a drum in her ears.

But, while she still found herself feeling threatened, and she gripped the hilt of her sword so tightly her knuckles were turning white, it wasn't that bad.

With a touch more confidence, Blaise breathed deeply in an attempt to relax her vice grip on her sword. She focused on Edelgard's rhythm, vaguely wondering if she was as bad as the Hero's Relics. She chanced a glance over her shoulder and immediately met said gaze of the Imperial Princess.

She didn't seem distressed, just calculating as ever.

Blaise turned back to Balen to see he had dropped into his fighting stance.

Per their rules, he was waiting on her to do the same. It was the best indication they had come up with over the years to ensuring they were both ready to spar. What with Blaise being nonvocal and all and their hands being needed on their weapons to, in fact, be ready.

She twirled her sword a couple of times, breathing several more deep breaths and noting the training grounds had gone eerily silent.

Then she dropped.

For once, she was grateful for that vision of Zanado's destruction. Otherwise, the fight likely would have been over right there as Balen snapped the weapon out, extending it into the whip-like barbs that could easily reach her even from that distance. She rolled to the side, her hair ruffled by the blade as it sailed right over her head. The blade's direction changed abruptly as Balen looked to bring it down upon her, but Blaise was already one step to the side and running full speed toward him.

She winced as the Sword of the Creator slammed into the ground just shy of her, but there wasn't time to dwell on it. Just as quickly, Balen snapped the sword again, the increments shooting past her just in time for Blaise to bring her sword down.

The clap as their weapons met vibrated the air almost more than the Crests, and her arms briefly went numb from the impact.

Balen still hit hard.

With a grimace, Blaise disengaged, attempting to leap around behind him with little success.

Attack, parry, attack, parry, attack, parry. They fell into a rhythm, Blaise mostly successful at keeping Balen on the defensive. She forced him back step by step, her speed temporarily lending her an edge as Balen simply fought to keep her at bay.

Her muscles burned.

She ignored them.

Sweat drenched her cloak she hadn't the foresight to remove.

Still, she refused to pause the onslaught, knowing the longer this dragged out the better it would be for Balen.

For just a moment, Blaise thought she had him. Twirling her sword in an art which swept the Sword of the Creator wide as she spun within his defenses, she didn't think it possible he could recover quick enough to stop the incoming uppercut.

Until one of his hands grabbed her wrist, stopping her blade short.

Mentally cursing, she knew full well he could hold her there while simultaneously leveling his sword at her so she rushed him, slamming her full weight into him.

They both tumbled into the dirt, Blaise's momentum twisting her wrist from his grasp as she was sent rolling right over him, sword and all. Dust clouded her vision as her feet slid through the dirt in their attempt to stop her tumble.

A graceful recovery if she said so herself.

But, just like that, Blaise lost the offensive.

Balen had rolled to his feet with similar ease and wasted no time in bearing down on her with vicious swings that sent spasms of pain through her previously wounded shoulder as she was forced to block them head on.

It was one of those swings when her sword met his for what felt like the fiftieth time that her sword cracked.

She knew she was in serious trouble as the blade fell uselessly from the hilt at her feet.

No time to mourn it's loss though she had just gotten the weapon reinforced at the armory, Blaise did the only thing she could think of and poured black magic into the ground at their feet. Rock cracked beneath them, Balen jerking back onto steady ground. A fissure now running down the training grounds filled with molten fire, adding it's heat to the stifling air.

Blaise retreated well out of his reach to give herself time to regroup. Discarding her cloak, she threw it as far away as she could and tried to figure out what to do. She wasn't quite ready to yield, but she was without a sword.

Balen didn't really give her time to come up with something, her brother traversing her bolganone spell and, once again, using his sword's greater range to his advantage.

The whip-like blade cut straight through the simple wind spell she conjured and she barely dodged. It came right back at her, and she stepped up the wind's power, this time the sword being thrown wide by the resulting gale.

Still, he was getting closer.

Think, think, think, Blaise.

If he caught her close without a weapon, she was done, but she doubted those training weapons would hold up to even a single hit from the Sword of the Creator. Balen also wasn't going to yield to a simple spell, and she really wasn't that advanced anyway.

The pounding of his Crest against Edelgard's was getting annoying.

Then she had an idea.

With a breath, she conjured another wind spell, strong as she could manage in a short amount of time, and engulfed Balen in a storm of red soil. That would distract him for a minute anyway. She was already bolting for Edelgard, Lorenz and Ferdinand jumping out of her way with a distinctly unnoble yelp. She slid to a brief stop in front of a stunned Edelgard, taking her training axe with little resistance, and then was running back to meet Balen in the middle of the training grounds.

She only got one shot so she had to do this right.

Balen was already winding the Sword of the Creator up for another long-range attack, but, this time, Blaise was counting on it.

Edelgard's Crest was flowing uninhibited through her, one hand beginning to crackle with static.

With her other hand, Blaise arced the head of the axe, catching the extended blade and stopping it short as its momentum twisted it around the weapon. Naturally, the axe fell apart, unable to stand up to Balen's sword, but that was fine as it did two things for her.

One, up until it shattered, Blaise was able to use the axe to position the Sword of the Creator where she wanted it.

Two, it gave her the second she needed to level her Crest-powered thoron spell.

She released it at the head of the axe still twisted up in the Sword of the Creator.

There was a split moment when Blaise wondered if it would do anything. She knew the head of the axe was conductive, but not so much the Sword of the Creator. She was partially banking on the strength of the spell to power it's way through the weapon and to Balen.

The next moment, she had the odd thought of being extremely tired as the Sword of the Creator glowed an even brighter red.

Then she was being thrown through the air, landing flat on her back, dirt billowing around her and obstructing her view.

She lay there for a moment as the dust settled, feeling oddly detached and yet hyperaware.

The pulse surrounding her was suddenly strange. Like it wasn't uniform. Large and small. Large and small. Blended but not singular.

Had she lost Edelgard's in all that mess?

It was quite the struggle to get back to her feet. The first thing she noticed was Balen had moved the Sword of the Creator to his other hand and was staring at his usual sword hand. She suspected he must have been burned. He looked to her as she stood.

_**I yield.**_

Yeah, she was done. She could take solace in knowing she'd put up a fight.

Balen's response was to sheath the Sword of the Creator and, dare she say, she thought he moved a bit sluggishly.

The Black Eagles were suddenly all around her, their voices sending stabs of pain through her head even as she was pleased to see them.

"Why'd you stop, Blaise? You were doing awesome!" Caspar exclaimed, the blue-haired boy suddenly the only thing she could see.

"She was only going to lose if she kept going."

Thank you for that vote of confidence, Hubert.

Not that she thought he was wrong.

She started giggling and she didn't know why.

Edelgard practically shoved Caspar out of the way, fixing Blaise with a glare that rivaled Rhea's. "What were you thinking? Honestly, casting a thoron spell that close to yourself. You're lucky you didn't blow yourself up," she snapped.

She laughed harder which only made Edelgard blush with offense in a way that made Blaise vaguely think was cute.

"What is so funny?" Edelgard demanded.

She didn't know, but she had a thought.

_**I need a new sword.**_

Edelgard opened her mouth, but it only stayed that way as she said nothing.

"I am thinking she may have been hitting her head," Petra stated.

That might be accurate.

"We're going to the infirmary," Edelgard decided, grabbing Blaise's wrist.

Blaise's laughter cut short, Crest power jolting through her, and she didn't move except to straighten. Instead, she found her gaze drawn directly to Edelgard's who froze at the sudden change in her demeanor.

Blaise still felt it and she was certain it was her.

Large and small. She'd thought them to be one, but they weren't. Edelgard's Crest of Seiros was not quite drowned out ...

"Blaise?" Edelgard asked as did several others she didn't look to see, but she imagined now wore quite the concerned expression.

It didn't make sense.

Did it?

_**I think I have a concussion.**_

Yes, Manuela just needed to heal her and it would make sense again. She was just thrown was all.

Lavender eyes widened like saucers the same time the students swarmed her.

Every single one of the Black Eagles escorted her to the physician.

_A/N: _

_I hope everyone had a relaxing Memorial Day! Thanks to all the Readers, Reviewers, and PMers. I'm quite excited for the next several chapters so stay tuned._

_I tried a different way to post this chapter so let me know if you see any weird formatting stuff._

_When I, eventually, finish the White Clouds arc, I want to go back and put actual chapter titles. I dislike the numbered chapters, but they're necessary for the time being._

_Until next time. :)_


	15. Chapter 14

_Warning: There's a battle in this chapter. I do not believe I wrote it with strong intensity though I would rate it slightly more graphic than the Battle of Magdred. If anyone does find themselves bothered by the battle sequence, feel free to stop reading and pick up with the next chapter which will feature the aftermath and important information. I am also perfectly happy to give a nondescript rundown of how the battle played out via PM if anyone needs it._

~FE~

Blaise tore through the corridors of the monastery with reckless abandon. She made turns so sharply her boots slid on the stone floor, her hair and cloak whipped behind her, and she almost trampled the patrolling knights on several occasions.

When she finally reached the audience chamber, Blaise ignored the closed doors and shoved them open to reveal Rhea and Manuela in the middle of a passionate discussion that cut off as abruptly as if they had been hit by a spell of induced muteness themselves.

Rhea was the epitome of calm, her hands clasped before her and features soft and serene. Manuela was not so much. It was clear to Blaise she had interrupted the professor's aggressive pacing. Manuela's face burned red and it had nothing to do with her previous night this time.

Both sets of eyes swiveled to her as the door clattered shut behind her.

Rhea's were carefully neutral, Manuela's, initially hard but softened.

Blaise knew she must look ridiculous as they stared upon her, having run all the way here from the opposite side of the monastery. A fishing pole was in her left hand, it's hook dangling unsecured and caught in strands of her hair if the frequent tugging said anything. She swiped a hand hastily through the tangles.

Neither woman greeted her so she took the initiative and swept toward them, silently considering she should have left her fishing pole outside the audience chamber or, better yet, at the pond. It felt as if it was throwing off the presence she wanted to convey.

**_Balen said you weren't coming. How can you not come with us?_ **

Blaise was approaching Manuela specifically, demanding answers but mostly pleading.

Manuela's nostrils flared as she glared over her shoulder at the Archbishop behind her. "Funny how Professor Balen knew enough to tell her..." Manuela shoved a finger at Blaise, "... when I'm just now learning of this myself," she snapped.

Blaise blinked, now twisting around to see Rhea too.

"There have been new developments. Surely you understand the necessity of flexibility in these troubling times, Manuela," Rhea soothed.

"This mission is not one to be taking me away from my students," Manuela argued.

"They will be in good hands," Rhea waved her hand to Blaise, "Blaise will still be with the students."

Blaise grimaced. That wasn't the point.

**_They need her. She's their professor._ **

Blaise was just there. She just helped with paperwork and combat training.

"There is nothing you cannot provide for them, Dear Child. I have heard how they respond to you. I have seen you lead them."

...

But not around a Hero's Relic and far away in Kingdom Territory.

Anxiety was beginning to flare up in her chest.

"We need our physician as troops of the Knights of Seiros begin to return from Western Church territory. We have only made a dent in their defenses and our Knights must be sent back out quickly. For that, only Manuela's expertise is sufficient," Rhea explained.

**_Can't you just leave the Western Church alone? We caught the ones responsible for the attack._ **

Too late, Edelgard's warning to be careful shot through her head.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She tried to recover as the air in the audience chamber shifted into something unpleasant.

**_Surely it's bad to have the Knights of Seiros so spread out and a stolen relic is more dangerous. The Western Church isn't going anywhere and can be dealt with later._ **

Yes, later. Definitely later.

Blaise held her breath.

Manuela came to her rescue, noticeably stepping around in front of Blaise and the tone of her voice slipping into lecture mode. "Strategically thinking, that isn't a bad point in the short term, however, the difficulty lies in determining the long term ramifications of the Western Church. An abundance of caution is needed of which Lady Rhea is exercising…"

Blaise wasn't sure she believed Manuela felt quite that strongly, but she knew an out when she saw one and allowed herself to be chastised. She dipped her head to stare at the floor, heart pounding in her chest and half-expecting to still be accused of heresy.

"No, my concern..." Manuela continued without skipping a beat and, once again, spinning to face the Archbishop, "... is the difficulty of this mission and the relative inexperience of the students and their guardians."

Most notably the guardians, Blaise was certain.

Her and Balen.

Which was 100% fair.

But Rhea, of course, saw no fault in Balen.

Rhea nodded respectfully to Manuela, nevertheless. "I hear your concerns, Manuela. I feel, however, the students are in good hands and will be taken care of. If it will give you any peace of mind, I have personally trained Professor Balen in white magic, and I will assign one of my personal knights to accompany this mission," she allowed.

Great. The Black Eagles lose Manuela and gain some knight of Rhea's who would probably be more of a spy than anything.

Blaise sighed, shaking her head of the dramatic thought.

Manuela certainly wasn't over the moon about the decision either, but it was clear it was final.

Professor Manuela bowed, her lips pressed in a thin line. Blaise copied the motion of respect, albeit reluctantly.

She dragged her feet as she followed the former Songstress to the infirmary. The other women's footsteps were heavy in her fury and she slammed the door behind them, muttering under her breath as she crossed the room searching for something.

Alcohol if Blaise had to guess.

Blaise tapped her on the shoulder until she looked at her.

**_You have to go with them. Tell her I can't do it._ **

"The only thing that would do would get you kicked off the mission, and, then, our students would be without either of us," Manuela returned. She grabbed a couple of wine glasses from the drawer she was searching, wiped them down with the sleeve of her fur cloak, and filled them with a bright red wine. She passed one to Blaise before downing hers in one gulp.

Blaise glared at the red liquid.

That just wasn't right! Why did Rhea decide this now? Why not earlier in the month when they could at least prepare?

She slammed the glass down hard enough some of the wine sloshed out.

**_I need you there. I can't do it by myself._ **

Manuela snorted into her second glass, an action that simultaneously caught Blaise off guard and offended her at the same time. "You? The mercenary who held a sword and traversed battlefields as soon as she could walk needs my help on it? Rhea is right. You are more qualified to be with them on the field and I am needed here."

No. That was such an exaggeration!

Blaise wasn't qualified for any of this.

**_I didn't pick up a sword until I was at least seven!_ **

Probably.

Manuela only shook her head and Blaise realized that might not have helped her case any. She tried again.

**_I can't write instructions in the middle of a battle._ **

"Then Sign."

**_They should be watching their opponents, not my hands._ **

"Blaise," Manuela paused to sit her drink down, the glass clinking softly on a steel medical tray, "…the only thing you need to do is be there. The kids can take care of themselves. They just need to know someone is with them."

But would she be with them? Really with them? Once the relics were out…?

She wasn't sure.

**_But..._ **

"No. The alternative is Balen and, while I have nothing against him, he does not know my students like you do, and he will be busy with his own," Manuela trailed off, watching Blaise with a waiting expression. Finally, Blaise nodded and, satisfied, Manuela poured herself another glass. She smiled knowingly. "Good. For all your talk, I doubt you could stand back anyway. You're quite the jealous sort, you know. You wouldn't want to risk Professor Balen stealing the attention of one of your eagles," she teased.

It was meant jokingly but she felt her chest twinge painfully nevertheless.

Manuela was right. Without their professor, the Black Eagles would look to either her or Balen.

The conspiracy theorist in her wondered if Rhea was expecting her to fail and the Eagles to turn to her brother.

Her hands clenched at that thought.

Balen could have everything else. Just, please, don't take the Black Eagles from her.

~FE~

She left Manuela soon after feeling a strange mixture of anxiety, jealousy, and determination.

Today was supposed to be their day off. This was the one day she shouldn't be stressed out. It was a beautiful and sunny Sunday of which had started out so nicely for Blaise. She had taken Balen up on the fishing offer and it had been nostalgic and relaxing. At least she'd gotten several hours in before the topic over Manuela had come up and she'd ditched her brother. The fish were going to stop biting as the sun rose higher anyway and they had plenty to cook that meal he'd wanted to prepare. Blaise would not have been much help with the cooking part and, so, she didn't feel too bad about leaving.

She was running, again, back toward the second floor dormitories, contemplating the dive this day had taken, when there was a flash of red from one of the rooms and a figure stepped into her path. Blaise slid to a halt, nearly tumbling over in her haste, except the figure reached a hand out to steady her.

"Blaise! Just the beautiful woman I was looking for."

Sylvain.

Mentally, she sighed. She hadn't the time to deal with flirtatious advances right now.

Blaise started to rifle through her cloak for her notebook which she swore was somewhere in the pockets. Sylvain made her pause, however, the Blue Lion student holding out what looked to be a brand new notebook and quill. She narrowed her eyes at him. It didn't look like a notebook he would own with a colorful design of blues and purples.

But, whatever, she didn't judge. He was clearly offering it to her for now so she took it and scribbled on the first page.

_I'm busy right now, Sylvain. _

"For the mission to the Kingdom, right? A stolen Hero's Relic. That's a serious mission," Sylvain drawled with his easy smile.

An easy smile Blaise could tell was fake without really even knowing the guy.

"... Perhaps you could use a little help with it? Maybe I could tag along," he suggested, arms stretching casually behind his head.

Blaise shook her head, shoving the notebook and quill to his chest as she started to push by.

"No, okay, wait," Sylvain called and there was enough urgency in his voice that she paused. He sighed, an unusual sound for him. "Look, my father is the one asking for help, my older brother is the one who stole the Lance of Ruin. I need to go on this mission."

Blaise pursed her lips, slowly turning back to face him. She felt kind of bad for him really, or at least for what his words meant, but she was in no position to give him what he wanted. She took the notebook back with a sigh of her own.

_We are days away from marching out and I cannot bring a new person along and ensure their safety. Maybe you can talk to Balen. _

Blaise already had to find out how to get everyone through this without Manuela. She couldn't afford another student, especially one she knew very little of besides her previous determination of him being harmless but questionable.

"You don't have to worry about my safety. Just let me join you. It's my territory, my family. I can be an asset," Sylvain insisted.

That was certainly true if only the circumstances were different.

_I'm sorry, Sylvain. I just found out Manuela is staying here instead of traveling with us and I have to worry about the students I already have. Try Balen. _

She tried to walk away again.

"You said yourself you have a few days. Give me a chance to prove it to you and, if you still say no, then fine."

Blaise looked over her shoulder at him. He really was serious and bordering on desperate. She took the notebook a third time, wondering if she was going to regret this.

_Fine. Be on time and prepared to march out. We'll be refreshing battle skills outside the monastery tomorrow. _

She didn't know exactly how yet, but she'd find a group to battle somewhere. She made a mental note to tell Manuela next time she saw her.

_If you impress me, you can join the mission. _

He grinned at her as if he had never been worried, saluting. "You won't be disappointed."

Oh, she hoped not.

With Sylvain appeased, Blaise continued her sprint to Edelgard's room. It was such a beautiful day outside, she was a little concerned the other girl wouldn't be there and she'd have to run around the monastery in search of her or else come up with some alternative help.

Luckily, her worries were unnecessary.

Edelgard was in her room, answering the knock on her door promptly as was usual.

"Blaise, good morning," Edelgard greeted before glancing back behind her to her window. "Or afternoon… I suppose I lost track of time..."

Blaise barely heard her, her attention once again captured by the strange pulsing surrounding the Imperial princess. It was annoying really, how it sounded the same as it ever did, but she couldn't unhear that miniscule change. At first she'd thought she'd had a concussion, but Manuela cleared her as fine. Then she thought she was getting confused with Edelgard and Balen being in the same vicinity since the Golden Deer had basically followed the Black Eagles to the infirmary for Balen's hand (which had been severely burned, not that Balen seemed aware). Now she was thinking it was legitimate, and it did kind of make sense that Blaise had initially compared Edelgard's Crest to a symphony. There really did seem to be two beats going on, subtle as it was.

But, still, she'd thought the Crest of Flames was supposed to be lost and now there were three people running around with it? Three people she knew? What were the odds?

She shook the thoughts from her head. Edelgard didn't say anything of it so Blaise didn't.

**_I need your help._ **

Edelgard blinked and Blaise realized with a touch of horror she'd interrupted her. The House Leader didn't appear terribly offended though, only scanning Blaise as if she could tell just by looking what Blaise needed. "I'm afraid I have very little skill in fishing."

What?

Blaise frowned and then followed her gaze to the fishing pole she still carried. With a roll of her eyes, she tossed the pole against the wall of Edelgard's dorm.

**_Not with fishing._ **

The upward twitch of her lips suggested Edelgard already knew that which was as frustrating as it was amusing.

Moreso was Blaise's apparent lack of foresight. She should have written down all that was going on before finding Edelgard so the girl didn't have to stand there and wait on her to write it all out. Too late, she had to settle for an apology and a "one minute" gesture.

For her part, Edelgard waited patiently until Blaise passed her the paper.

Blaise watched as her brow creased with every line she read.

"That ... is unexpected given how close we are to the mission, but you are still accompanying us, correct?" Blaise nodded and Edelgard shrugged with less concern than Blaise would have expected. "Rhea's trying to throw you off-balance. We can't let her. What is it you need from us? We will make it work."

Her confidence was soothing in the midst of Blaise's anxiety. A no-nonsense "what do you need?" that Blaise could answer.

So what did she need?

It would certainly be nice if everyone could read Sign and her body language in the midst of a battle, but that was asking too much.

But, she did have a thought that should be doable…

Edelgard accompanied her to the Knight's Hall where the House Leader had heard a rumor of something that may just be what the Black Eagles needed. Some Kingdom soldiers looking for training from the Knights of Seiros. Of course, with all the knights spread across Fodlan, there weren't any to spare for such activities and that was where Blaise came in, offering to battle them with the Black Eagles as long as they could be prepared by the morning.

Initially reluctant, the soldiers clearly feeling some level of offense at being "downgraded" from sparring with legitimate knights to a class of kids, Edelgard was quick to show them exactly what one of the "kids" could do with a weapon. In a maneuver that was as precise and deadly as it was beautiful, Edelgard practically cleaved a training dummy in half with a rusty iron axe that happened to be laying around.

Blaise got the distinct feeling Edelgard was showing off.

She didn't exactly know why since Blaise was certain Edelgard didn't have to perform such a dance just to convince some Kingdom soldiers her class was competent.

Regardless, the soldiers got on board with the idea, agreeing to meet Blaise outside the monastery gates at dawn the next morning so they could be in position before classes began.

The girls shared a high-five after some initial confusion on Edelgard's part as to what Blaise was trying to say holding her hand up in the air like that.

Blaise and Edelgard went to the marketplace next at the princess's request.

"Have you ever been in Kingdom territory, Blaise?" Edelgard asked her.

Blaise, of course, nodded. Their mercenary jobs had taken them there upon occasion. She'd even gone with the students to Magdred.

Edelgard, for some reason, didn't look satisfied, eyeing her with narrowed eyes. "Northern Kingdom Territory?" she clarified.

She had to think harder about that one and realized she wasn't sure one way or the other.

**_Why?_ **

"Well, it's dreadfully cold. You'll have difficulty Signing at all once the chill sets in so it would be prudent for us to get you some gloves," Edelgard explained.

**_You can't Sign in gloves._ **

The minute movements would be lost if they weren't too bulky to move her fingers to begin with. Technically, Edelgard's gloves were an exception but goddess-knew Blaise didn't want to know how much the princess spent on hers.

"You just need the right kind. Something thin but warm, potentially enchanted," she insisted.

Blaise frowned. Expensive, she meant.

And it was, the mercenary stopping Edelgard before she could hand over more money than Blaise was allocated for the entire month. She lost the resulting battle of stares and soon found a pair of thin, black gloves being placed in her bag.

Initially salty at the unapproved extravagant buy, Blaise silently cursed the day she'd admitted Edelgard's intense staring made her uncomfortable. Even if it was a pleasant sort of uncomfortable, she was certain Edelgard had caught on and was using it against her.

Damn her.

Blaise never would have considered herself a pushover before meeting her, but it seemed she had fallen quite far since then.

It was odd she was so insistent anyways...

**_I take it you've been to the Kingdom before?_ **

Edelgard didn't look at her but stared straight ahead as they wandered the rest of the wares out of simple curiosity. "I lived in Fhirdiad for three years when I was younger."

Despite herself, Blaise nearly tripped over air.

Fhirdiad?

Why would Edelgard live in the Kingdom's capital when she was a princess of Enbarr?

"I lived with my mother," Edelgard admitted as if reading her mind. "Or so I've been told. Honestly, I do not remember much of that time."

Her voice held an edge to it that suggested her lack of memory wasn't due to simple age.

Blaise found it unnecessary to inquire further.

Instead, she contemplated how well-traveled Edelgard really was.

Fhirdiad and Enbarr.

She'd heard that before except... not from Edelgard.

Blaise chanced a glance at her before shaking her head upon seeing the Imperial princess pausing to regard a stand full of flowers. She was either losing her mind or she was the biggest idiot in all of Fodlan. Blaise wasn't sure which one she preferred.

**_We've been to Enbarr several times. Deirdru once._ **

"Truly? Did you see the palace in Enbarr? It really is worth seeing even if you are passing through. And I hear there is no comparison to the location of the Leicester Alliance Roundtable in the Aquatic Capital..."

Blaise wouldn't know.

Commoners weren't allowed that close in either location under normal circumstances. In fact, Blaise had a distinct memory of being chased off by Imperial guards for getting too close to the palace when she had been young. It had always left a sour taste in her mouth since she had neither been looking for the palace or even been aware it was nearish. She certainly hadn't been able to see it.

**_We stayed on the outskirts of the city._ **

Blaise made a circular motion with her other hand when Edelgard's brow furrowed.

"Oh …"

Edelgard probably understood what hadn't been said. She had to know as well as anybody who lived on the outskirts of the city.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable and not the pleasant kind, Blaise suddenly aware of the looks sent their way by those they passed. Eyes followed Edelgard, commoner and noble alike dipping their heads in respect if she passed in front of them. Their faces lit with awe and adoration.

A stark, and unwanted, contrast to herself.

Mercenaries … Sellswords were not held highly. They were certainly convenient if one needed extra muscle, but it was general knowledge they went to whoever threw the most money at their feet. Honorless and without loyalty.

She recalled the Flame Emporer throwing gold at her feet and she suddenly felt as if she'd been punched in the gut. Her eyes flickered to Edelgard before jerking away again, stubbornly refusing that train of thought.

Blaise felt glares boring into her back, making her feel as if she was doing wrong simply by walking alongside her companion.

If Edelgard noticed the attention, she showed no sign of it so Blaise did what she always seemed to do.

If Edelgard made no mention of it, neither did she.

But she did allow herself to wonder what it must feel like to be adored in such a way. Desired, respected, trusted... noble. She wondered what she had to do for others to see it within her.

~FE~

Her dour thoughts only seemed to creep farther into her brain with each hour.

Blaise had never hated being different, being unable to speak. Growing up, Balen never spoke unless he had to and more than a few mercenaries cared little for talk even when they were intoxicated. Her father wasn't exactly social outside of a tavern.

They never stayed in one place long enough for Blaise to care. She had no hand in the social aspects of the mercenary business. On the field, Balen was everything and speech was negligible between them.

Then she came to Garreg Mach and it was frustrating. People just didn't get it. Some questioned her intelligence, some her competence, many simply struggled with what she was trying to say when she Signed or the one–sided conversations devolved into something awkward as Blaise tried to write fast enough to keep it going.

But her few Black Eagles and Manuela were the exception.

So she never hated it.

Until now.

Because, while it wasn't her fault the Black Eagles were assigned this mission, it was her fault she was having to ask more of them.

But there was no other option.

Until someone came up with some magical solution to Blaise's mute problem, she could not command a battlefield on her own. Sign could be a wonderful asset to a covert operation, but it did not translate to an actual engaging battle. Hands should be on weapons and eyes should be on opponents.

So Edelgard took a part of Manuela's role and became the bridge between Blaise and the Black Eagles. As House Leader and Emperor-To-Be, she was the natural choice to give out commands to her fellow companions, and she had the best grasp at communicating with Blaise.

Still, there was something about having an eighteen year old young woman commanding a battlefield that turned Blaise's stomach.

The commander was always a target in battle, after all.

If Edelgard, or any of the students really, were to fall in battle, it would be due to Blaise's shortcomings and the thought terrified her more and more as the day passed.

Edelgard took up position next to Blaise as they ran the rest of the students through drills with the Kingdom knights. They were aggressive drills at Blaise's request.

She had to know how they fought together, who they listened to when the obvious was removed, how were their tactics, did certain students not mesh well with each other? In Sylvain's case, she needed to know everything.

No one had questioned Sylvain's presence. He must have taken Blaise's warning to heart as he was as serious as she had ever seen him. Edelgard had said he was the first student to join her, complete with his armor, his lance, and his steed, all in impeccable condition.

Initially, he threw the Black Eagles in disarray, but then his talent with his lance complimented with a pleasant shift in his charm into something more professional led to him falling quite naturally into a leading role.

Blaise and Edelgard watched as Caspar and Linhardt gravitated toward the knight and, in Caspar's case, listened to him. Petra seemed to be the other natural leader of the remaining students. Dorothea, Ferdinand, and Bernadetta responding well to her. Hubert did not appear to have a preference when Edelgard was not involved but notably responded to both Sylvain's group and Petra's group.

Hubert was the natural tactician and they all, Sylvain included, knew it.

As such, Hubert was the one who called the shots.

Overall, there was nothing too shocking about the skirmish except that Sylvain was worth bringing on the mission after all. Blaise was pleased with the students' progress and their ability to work together. They adapted to changes in circumstance with such fluidity any mercenary would be proud to have them. Ferdinand, she noted much to Edelgard's displeasure, was a pleasant surprise. He wasn't a half-bad tactician as he managed to get himself, Petra, and Dorothea out of a dour situation after they got separated from the others.

That was, perhaps, an area of study that should be pursued in the future.

They were going to be fine.

She kept telling herself that.

They departed on a Wednesday after several days of rest and preparation. They were in high spirits, the Golden Deer and Black Eagles mingling with ease as they marched. Blaise and Balen were in front with a Knight of Seiros, Sir Gilbert. Edelgard often marched next to Blaise, sometimes Claude joined them beside Balen. It was only upon occasion that they had to fall back to break up some kind of disagreement. Blaise and Balen took turns and, it was one of those times when she had to deal with Ferdinand annoying Leonie that Blaise found herself swarmed by the Golden Deer.

It was Claude who initially stopped her, throwing his arm over her shoulder and winking at her. "So, Blaise, are you older or younger than Teach? I have my suspicions, but Teach isn't very forthcoming," he admitted.

An odd question. They were twins so what did a minute or two even matter?

**_Why?_ **

Claude looked over her shoulder and Blaise followed his attention to a frowning Ferdinand.

"She asked 'why' but I must entreat you remove your arm. It is unbecoming for a noble to grab another so," Ferdinand reprimanded.

Claude did so with a nod to Ferdinand before he was, once again, smiling easily at Blaise. "We've been wondering if you are the fierce, protective big sister or the fireball little sister. We can't come to an agreement," he admitted.

Blaise stared at him. This was an actual conversation? And, if they couldn't come to an agreement, what information were they even basing it on?

"I think you're the little sister! You remind of my own," Raphael's voice made her jump.

"Little sister? No way! Blaise is the older sister," Caspar argued with his usual enthusiasm.

Hilda hummed from a few steps over where she walked beside Marianne. One finger tapped her lip as she studied Blaise. "From the professor's stories, I still think she is older."

Great.

There was no telling what kind of stories Balen was telling about her.

"Ooh! Stories? What does Balen say our dear Blaise is like?" Dorothea demanded.

Hilda perked up instantly at the opportunity to gossip. "Oh, well, there was apparently this one time the professor went to the marketplace on his own for fishing supplies but had taken a wrong turn into this shady part of town. He was dragged into this rundown building, but Blaise had followed him and seen so she set loose a bunch of angry wyverns from across the street before kicking the door down. These men took one look at her and the rampaging wyverns outside and ran screaming."

Oh, goddess, what did she do to deserve this?

Dorothea and Hilda chortled while Blaise silently seethed for a multitude of reasons.

Why was Balen even telling people this stuff? Had he really only been going to get fishing supplies? And it hadn't been very funny at the time. Balen could have been hurt, and she'd gotten into a lot of trouble over those wyverns.

"You set loose a pack of wyverns and lived?" Ferdinand demanded, eyes wide.

Blaise swore she saw Edelgard and Hubert glance her way at the loud exclamation.

She was definitely going to kill Balen in his sleep for this.

**_They were black market wyverns. Terrible conditions. They knew I rescued them. Only a few shady merchants even got hurt, the wyverns were more interested in getting out._ **

Ferdinand just stared at her in awe while Dorothea laughed louder.

Blaise, unsure how much they even understood of what she'd Signed, decided this conversation was too embarrassing to continue and started to walk away.

"So, Blaise, what's the answer? Are you older or younger?" Claude inquired.

She shrugged without looking at him and made it about three steps farther before Leonie swept in front of her. "Wait, you don't know either? I thought it was just the professor being him, but you should know..." she stated, eyeing Blaise up and down.

The motion made Blaise feel defensive, like she was being challenged.

"Is Captain Jeralt really your father?"

Blaise blinked her surprise. What kind of question was that?

Dorothea's laughter cut off abruptly, signaling a dramatic shift in the atmosphere.

"You two don't look anything like him..."

"Now, Leonie, Blaise is so pretty there's no way she's anything less than the spitting image of her mother," Dorothea cut in with a cheery voice that was slightly dampened with strain.

Leonie shrugged, crossing her arms against her chest. "That could be true but, assuming you know as much as the professor, you don't seem to know your age, where you were born, you never met your mother..." her gaze remained fixated on Blaise, "... You can't tell me you haven't wondered."

Blaise's jaw clenched.

Of course she'd wondered. Her father had left so many things a mystery, it was hard not to have entertained the thought, but she had no hard proof one way or the other.

She shook her head anyway. Just to be defiant.

"You are filling Blaise with sorrow," Petra interrupted whatever Leonie's response might have been.

Blaise immediately blanked out her expression in a way that she knew was eerily like Balen. Everyone had grown quiet and she could feel eyes on her from all directions. It occurred to her many people had actually been asking the same question Leonie posed, they just hadn't said it to her face.

"Not that I believe there to be any question..." It was Edelgard who spoke, her voice soft but very present. It was cold and with an edge of a warning that no one dared interrupt. "… but blood alone does not make a father. The answer to your question, Leonie, will always be 'yes.'"

Everyone took the hint. The conversation was over.

Blaise stalked back to Balen's side without acknowledging anyone further and, just like that, the Black Eagles and Golden Deer separated. She wasn't sure exactly what it was that caused it. She thought some of the Golden Deer found a cold Edelgard intimidating or at least were made acutely aware of her intolerance of such candid interrogation which highlighted a deeper division between the way the almost entirely noble Black Eagles conducted themselves from the more commoners and relaxed nobles of the Golden Deer. She thought Ferdinand might have simply been offended at Leonie's gall at bringing up such a topic and, therefore, removed himself. Those like Petra and Bernadetta followed Edelgard's lead away. Interestingly, Dorothea and Sylvain struck a kind of truce and surrounded Blaise, attempting lighter conversation. Blaise mostly ignored them, but their conversations were so lively she couldn't help allowing their mood to override hers.

The rift only grew, however, as the days passed and they grew more tired and the air colder.

Blaise quickly learned that Edelgard had been 100% correct about the chill and she found that even with the gloves it was best to keep her hands in her cloak pockets unless she absolutely needed to Sign something.

Sylvain took more of the lead as they crossed into Gautier territory and led them toward Conand Tower where Miklan had taken refuge.

The villages they passed through were in a sorry state. Burned and pillaged for sport, no survivors greeted them but watched them pass through the boarded up windows of the buildings still intact. They marched by without stopping, Sylvain warning them of a brewing storm. The best they could do for the villagers anyway was to dispose of the threat.

By the time they reached Conand Tower, Sylvain's warning had proven accurate as freezing wind buffeted their group in every direction. It was only a matter of time before the rain began.

"Even for a tower, it's pretty… er, towering," Claude remarked, eyes fixated at a point well above the ground at the topmost spire.

"It's more like a fortress," Balen stated.

Blaise's eyes settled on the ancient ballistas at strategic points up and around the tower.

Yes, this place was built for battle.

Edelgard's gaze flickered to Sylvain with some concern though he made no movement to suggest he was even listening. "Miklan must be more than your average thief to have overtaken a place such as this."

"This area was the site of a massive battle several hundred years ago. That's when invasions from the north were at their peak. Back then, this tower was built for…"

"It was built to protect…" Sylvain interrupted Gilbert's explanation, his voice sharp and grating "... Now it houses our enemies." Sylvain suddenly dug his heels into his horse, the white steed jerking forward only to stop when Blaise just barely managed to grab the reins and glare at the young noble.

He glared back but eventually looked away, guiding the horse several steps backward and into line.

Gilbert frowned. "Are you certain it is wise to bring the Gautier heir into this fight? We cannot afford reckless anger," he warned.

Sylvain opened his mouth to argue but was, once again, thwarted by Blaise as she raised a hand to silence him.

**_He stays._ **

"Sylvain has more right to reclaim what has been taken than anyone else," Edelgard followed though she did send a glare at Sylvain, making it perfectly clear she wouldn't tolerate unbecoming behavior.

Claude coughed, changing the conversation elsewhere. "I didn't realize one without a Crest could wield a Hero's Relic, but it seems Miklan is doing so. Curious, isn't it. You have the Crestless wielding the Lance of Ruin and then the mythical Sword of the Creator which can't be used by anyone except Teach, Crest or no Crest. What is it with these weapons?" he mused.

They're horrid and disturbing.

But Blaise didn't Sign that for anyone to see.

Admittedly, she didn't know how the Lance of Ruin could possibly work for someone without a Crest. There wasn't anything to resonate with. She assumed it would be like herself trying to find a Crest's pulse with someone who didn't have a Crest. It just wasn't there.

**_Maybe they're regular weapons for someone without a Crest._ **

Maybe Miklan wasn't after the power of the lance at all but stole it out of spite.

"I agree. There has to be a reason only those blessed with a Crest are allowed to wield the Hero's Relics. If it is the case where it lacks it's full power, that will be to our advantage," Edelgard pointed out. She grimaced as a particularly strong burst of wind brought the first wave of rain upon them. "Let's end this quickly," she suggested.

No one argued with her.

~FE~

The tower was just as imposing inside as it was outside. Massive doors, partially open, greeted their group.

Blaise felt small and vulnerable as she led the way inside, the Black Eagles and Sylvain huddled behind her, making her acutely aware of how small their group, even combined with the Golden Deer, really was.

It wasn't a good sign the doors were open either.

They were being invited in which only meant the thieves inside held no fear of them.

The room they walked into was larger than Garreg Mach's Cathedral. It was empty of all noise except the wail of the wind through broken windows, the cascade of rain against stone, and the faint echoes of their footsteps. There was no light except the occasional flash of lightning.

Blaise lit her hand with fire and the room was suddenly alight with a multitude of fire or white magic as everyone with such a skill followed suit.

The place was ransacked.

Broken crates spilled what appeared to have once been food and other supplies onto the ground. Now they were soiled with age and water as the rain leaked from the windows above. The air reeked of sweat and sewage and decay, turning her stomach and causing someone between their two houses to vomit.

She didn't look back, giving them the dignity that came with her ignorance.

A gasp was the only warning she had before she felt Edelgard jump and press against her, fingers digging into Blaise's arm. Blaise, already on edge, spun, unsheathing her sword and illuminating the shadows with her fire to see what had startled Edelgard so.

A rat scurried by their feet and into the shelter of the dark.

Lowering her sword, Blaise noted Edelgard was too terrified to even be embarrassed, her face pale even in the dark.

This was not a good start.

Not knowing exactly what it was that frightened her, Blaise slipped her around so she was more in the middle of everyone. Bernadetta had already wedged herself between Hubert and Ferdinand. Dorothea had a tight hold on Sylvain's arm. Even Caspar scoured the shadows suspiciously.

"Let's move." Balen's voice was loud and echoing in the vast silence.

Blaise reluctantly stepped forward with him.

The distinct twang of a bow being released had her scrambling backwards as Balen dove to the left. An arrow bounced off the stone at her feet. It was followed by many more raining down upon them and the silence was over.

Blaise swept a fire spell in front of her, Edelgard, and Hubert, disintegrating an arrow or two that surely would have hit one of them. Sylvain brought his shield up over him and Dorothea, arrow after arrow clanging against metal. Petra tackled Caspar to the ground and they rolled from the midst of the arrows. Ferdinand's shield covered Bernadetta and Linhardt.

She had no idea what was happening to the Golden Deer except that Balen and Claude were both yelling orders.

Blaise cast a second spell around them, grabbed Edelgard by the wrist, and practically threw her toward Petra and Caspar where the next floor up extended out and protected them from archers.

"Black Eagles." Edelgard must have recovered, her voice loud and with only the barest hint of a tremble as she shouted over the chaos. "This way!"

Hubert cast a spell to join Blaise's, giving the rest of their team cover to reach the safer territory. Blaise nodded to him and he turned and ran, leaving Blaise casting spell after spell as she backed away, eventually breaking and running herself, trying to ignore the arrows that bounced at her feet.

Yeah, Balen was all they needed. Thanks, Rhea.

**_We need to find a way up._ **

"Search for a staircase," Edelgard ordered, nodding to Blaise as she rejoined them safely.

"They will be at both far corners," Sylvain stated.

**_Sylvain, Caspar in front. Ferdinand, Petra in back. Edelgard, middle right. I'll be middle left. Everyone else in between._ **

"You and me in front, Sylvain," Caspar explained with a touch of his usual cheer though it felt more forced than normal.

Everyone else fell into their positions with no comment.

Blaise kept her eyes peeled above, fully expecting another round of archers to fire at her position. She was flirting with being in their range, but they reached the stairs with ease.

The stairwell became a bloodbath.

Too late, Blaise realized it was an ambush as hoards of thieves charged down the stairs at them. From the back, she heard Ferdinand's cry of "they're behind us!"

There was barely any room to move and she had to shove between Bernadetta and Dorothea to reach the front. She nodded them towards the back where their ranged attacks would be at an advantage. In the front, Caspar lost his footing on the stairs as a thief's sword got past his gauntlets. Blaise released a thunder spell, sending the thief flying into his companion behind him, body twitching as they hit the ground. Blaise leapt over the recovering Caspar, and, then, she was in the front, her sword cutting down opponent after opponent that threw themselves upon her. Sylvain grunted beside her as he spun his lance with similar ferocity.

Blaise didn't know what was happening behind them but, quite suddenly, she and Sylvain were pushing forward against the mass of thieves before them.

Her sword stabbed through one man's throat, blood spurting in every direction and coating her in red. She followed it up with a spin that sliced into another's leg and a third's gut, the latter of which spilled entrails along the staircase adding it's mess to the blood-slickened stairs.

Sylvain fell back, the edge of a lance having penetrated the armor at his knee.

Blaise felt a renewed burst of energy as she found herself as the sole front fighter. One thief, two thieves, three thieves, Blaise impaled them one by one and shouldered their limp bodies back behind her. Her body stung in a million places as sweat and blood stuck and made her feel unnaturally warm.

None of it gave her pause.

Soon she was joined by raging black magic that cut swathes of devastation through their enemies. She had thought it Dorothea until she saw Edelgard leap in front of her, brandishing her axe in a wide sweep that took out the two closest men at once.

With perfect synchronization, Blaise did not miss a step as she charged for the next opponent. Edelgard seemingly read her mind and stepped fluidly out of her path only to pivot and follow at Blaise's heels.

"We're almost there, my teacher," Edelgard encouraged.

Blaise only saw enemies, but she took Edelgard's word for it.

The next man died by her sword, the next Edelgard's axe, and then Blaise's sword again.

There was no one blocking them anymore and Blaise took a step forward, almost to fall face first as she realized the floor wasn't going up. They'd made it to the top.

Her eyes scanned the dimly lit area they found themselves in.

They weren't alone, but the hoard of thieves made no move toward them. Instead, they lingered at the other end around a man with familiar red hair but wild sunken eyes and scars that put most mercenaries to shame. In this man's hand was a bleached white lance-like weapon with a pulsing red stone.

Blaise's eyes narrowed.

"Miklan," Edelgard breathed.

The rest of the Black Eagles joined them at the top of the stairs, pouring vulneraries over wounds and huffing for much needed air. She sighed with relief to see everyone accounted for and no serious injuries though Bernadetta clung desperately to Dorothea and Caspar walked with a distinct limp. Linhardt flitted between them, healing as best he could though he was markedly green in the face. Ferdinand and Petra were nearly unrecognizable so drenched they were in blood.

Blaise wondered if she looked like them.

Sylvain slipped between her and Edelgard in full view of his brother and a murmur rose among the thieves.

"Why have you come, Crest-bearing fool?" Miklan called, his companions letting out wolfish howls of mirth.

To Sylvain's credit, he didn't even bat an eye. "I'm here for the Lance of Ruin, Miklan. Hand it over. I don't want to humiliate you, but I will."

Miklan scowled, his hold on the lance tightening and sending waves of ... something through Blaise. She winced, her blood beginning to burn. "Hurry up and die already! If not for you… If it hadn't been for you…"

"Shut up!" Sylvain hissed. "I'm tired of hearing that. You've always blamed me for something that isn't my fault!" He raised his own lance and Blaise was struck by how the brothers mirrored each other.

"You think you can take the Lance of Ruin from me? I'll kill you... I'll kill every single one of you!"

Thunder rolled, punctuating the atmosphere his words left in their wake. His band of thieves charged.

"They have nowhere left to flee. All we have to do is end this." Edelgard twirled her axe, dropping into her fighting stance in sync with a flash of lightning. "Black Eagles, retrieve the Lance of Ruin!"

Blaise was the first to move, leading the charge as swift as the wind which howled outside the tower. Her head was refreshingly clear. This battle might actually be easier than she thought. The Lance of Ruin, she was allowed to fight, to apprehend. It beckoned her as the other Hero's Relics had and, this time, she didn't panic and she didn't stop.

Miklan couldn't resonate with the weapon anyways. She was sure of that now, the energy spilling from the awakened lance in erratic bursts that searched but found nothing.

This would be easy.

If only these companions of his would get out of her way.

Met by a wall of thieves, Blaise attempted to cut down just enough of them to break through. Edelgard and Caspar were on either side of her, Sylvain and Ferdinand a step behind but using their lances' longer reach to thin their enemies, spells and arrows devastated the immediate area around them, preventing the thieves from encircling the front fighters.

Still, for every one she cut down, another jumped in her path.

Thieves didn't usually exhibit such loyalty and she vaguely wondered what their motivation was.

Breaking through wasn't going to work as she had hoped and they needed to back up and regroup. She was just gritting her teeth to disengage when a sudden wave of arrows and magic rained from behind her.

The thieves began to fall like flies.

Blaise understood as three enemies were impaled by the barbed extensions of the Sword of the Creator, opening the line for her. She didn't waste a second but charged through the defenses. The line of thieves let her go, more concerned with the pressure the Golden Deer added to their defensive line than a single sword fighter slipping by.

Something wasn't right, she decided as she paused briefly to take a breath and sort out the chaos around her.

The resonance between Balen and the Sword of the Creator battered at her mercilessly, chipping away at her energy even as Edelgard's Crests hummed within her veins revitalizing her. So different were they, she struggled to pinpoint exactly what it was that bothered her so. Across from her the Lance of Ruin struck out like a snake and the plethora of Crests around her magnified, bearing down upon her until her limbs felt too heavy to lift. Just as suddenly they retreated, stealing her breath as surely as if she'd been punched in the gut.

The red of the Lance of Ruin's stone grew darker with each deafening pulse and Blaise could have growled her frustration.

Get the lance. Just get the lance, Blaise... Worry about the rest of it later.

Pulling violently upon Edelgard's Crests, she blanketed herself, casting the others away as unneeded distractions. She closed her eyes, the thrum and heat within her intoxicating even as it built.

"Blaise!" Someone shouted her name and she snapped to attention, her sword arcing upwards in time to catch the head of the Lance of Ruin before it stabbed into her chest.

Miklan growled as he attempted to take Blaise out quickly with brute force. Her arms trembled with the effort as the Lance of Ruin steadily pushed her sword back until she could feel the sharp edge against her armor. The Crest stone flickered an angry red that traveled the length of the weapon and twisted around her arms.

It burned, yet she hardly noticed. Her own Crest flared, the delicate shape of Chevalier lighting in the space between her and Miklan.

The red flickered, the stone briefly burning black as Miklan recoiled with the lance.

Realization or, at least suspicion, drove Blaise forward with all the ferocity of the storm raging outside the tower. Her sword cut upon Miklan with enough force that he stumbled back with each blow. The Crest of Chevalier flashed again and again as she clashed with the Lance of Ruin. It grew brighter with every passing blow and washed her in rivulets of soft, cool light like snow drifting through the air. It was a stark contrast to the heat in her veins and, yet, the Crests danced and swirled so evenly, Blaise relished the newfound harmony.

Back, back, she pressed Miklan until one clash of their weapons knocked the thief off-balance.

He snarled, a feral sound, and twisted the Lance of Ruin in his grip.

Lightning flashed outside the tower and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as the air shifted, Blaise pausing as her eyes locked on the stone within the lance.

Red light erupted, blinding her and sending Blaise scrambling back with a grimace as a gruesome wail deafened her ears.

"What the hell?!"

Blinking away the red, Blaise fought through the haze to see Miklan.

She almost wished she hadn't.

Black... sludge oozed from the stone, encasing Miklan's arm in the black substance. It encroached farther and farther with each passing breath, solidifying as the red of the Lance's Crest turned it's power against the thief. Uninhibited, untamed, it struck with all the volatility Blaise had come to expect from a Relic.

It was just… she'd never really seen it uncontrolled.

Miklan clawed at his arm, his eyes bulging in a horrified trance as he tore at the black substance to stop the spread even as it's tendrils claimed his neck. His eyes briefly met hers before the vessels burst and blood streaked his face. A guttural scream added it's voice to the wail. His body simultaneously broke apart and grew, raptor-like claws shearing the black and crushing stone that miraculously missed Blaise by inches.

She was paralyzed and could only watch as the lance's Crest, unsatisfied with the monster it was already creating, struck out toward her. She felt the equivalent of a thunder spell jolt through her body. The ground shifted beneath her feet and she felt herself fall. Her stomach dropped as she seemed to twist upon herself and then she had collided with the stone floor.

It wasn't as dramatic as her previous encounters when her vision settled and she recognized Zanado. The wailing had ceased in her ears, replaced with a pleasant chirping of birds that was as different as night and day from Conand Tower. A gentle breeze rustled her hair, refreshing against her sweat-streaked skin.

If it wasn't for the pounding of her heart of which threatened to burst from her chest and the pulse of the Lance of Ruin in her blood, Blaise would have thought she'd never had been in a battle.

She froze. The Lance of Ruin was... calm and resonating within her. How had that happened?

"You have returned."

Blaise jumped to her feet with her heart in her throat, spinning as she did so to face the unfamiliar voice.

He was young, only looking to be the age of some of the students. He was a head taller than Blaise with hair the color of spring leaves. It fell over emerald eyes in a messy yet endearing sort of way. His smile was bright though it did little to set her at ease.

She backed away, unsheathing her sword as she did. Her eyes flickered in search of danger, but there seemed to be no one except the young man across from her. They stood upon a precipice overlooking Zanado as the sun dipped below the horizon. She clenched the hilt of her sword.

Who would attack her this time?

The Nabatean or somebody else?

"You are not exactly who I expected but a pleasure all the same."

**_Who are you?_ **

"Ukai."

He didn't bow but leaned haphazardly, confidently, against the rock face beside her.

Blaise eyed him suspiciously. **_What do you want?_ **

"To harp upon an old friend, but, then, that wouldn't be fair." He huffed in a decidedly adolescent kind of way, altering his gaze to look out over the expanse of Zanado.

It was all Blaise needed to hear for her to raise her sword between them. **_You're looking for Chevalier. You would attack her?_ **

An enemy of Chevalier was an enemy of her and she would cut them down.

His eyes darkened, the mirth disappearing from his face. Fog began to swirl around them, beginning around her ankles but almost instantaneously obscuring her beloved Zanado from view and making Blaise feel vulnerable in her solitude. "Is that why you have hidden? From fear of retribution? Did you think we all would blame you?"

Each word dripped with disappointment, his voice echoing into something deep and unnatural.

"You will never know if you never ask."

A shiver trickled down her spine as haunting green eyes stared into hers. She had a distinct feeling he was waiting on her. Did he want her to ask?

Blaise fought to keep her hand steady.

**_Are you friend or foe?_ **

An empty face stared back at her, green eyes were replaced with glowing red. His hand reached out toward her and she readied her sword to dismember it. She remembered lightning burning her body, she remembered a dagger in her back. These visions never turned out well for her. However, as she cut her sword through the air, something gave her pause. He held his hand palm up, not trying to grab her as she had initially thought.

Her sword stopped just short of his wrist. She suspected he could feel the cold metal against his skin.

His Crest grabbed ahold of her as she hesitated, suffocating her in it's fury. There was only him and her. She could not see anything else through the fog.

Fight.

Fight back.

Her head screamed such to her lest she drown in the fog.

But his hand…it was offered to her. What did that mean? Was it a trap?

Her sword slipped from numb fingers. She did not hear it hit the stone beneath her feet. She knew she was going to fall and, so, Blaise took the risk and placed her hand in his. His fingers curled around hers, tight, but not painfully so.

The world spun around but the pressure in her hand remained steady.

She opened her eyes as the screaming returned to her ears. Disoriented, she heard the roar, she saw the beast with red eyes, she felt the lance in her hand and the acid-like burn as the sludge crept past her wrist, yet she did not move despite her precarious position upon her back before the beast.

She sat up, staring blankly at her hand.

How had she even gotten the lance?

The next thing she knew, Balen blocked her view, the Sword of the Creator whipping out to force the black beast away from her with another roar that shook the tower so violently Blaise wobbled as she tried to stand. "Can you fight?" Balen called over the roar, only briefly turning to face her.

His expression was hard, the Sword of the Creator humming with enough power to be frightening.

She was frightened, but she reminded herself this was Balen.

Steeling herself from the aftereffects of her vision, Blaise nodded.

She sheathed her sword and shifted the Lance of Ruin behind her as the beast fixated upon them again. Thoron crackled from Blaise's hand and through the air, surging directly into the monster's head and giving Balen the cover to charge. It recoiled only to be met with a blow from the Sword of the Creator that split scales.

It's shriek shattered windows, glass falling upon Dorothea and adding fresh cuts to the mage's arms as she shielded herself. Blaise caught a glimpse of Lorenz and Ignatz scattering.

"Everyone, aim for the break in it's scales!" Claude ordered.

His command was followed immediately by a flurry of arrows and magic as Balen retreated out of the onslaught.

The beast spun, dark magic spewing from it's maw, but it was it's tail that caused the most damage. It sliced through the air, Balen and Blaise both caught in the resulting gale and sent tumbling across the floor. Stone columns cracked and collapsed within it's radius, Blaise only saved from a falling pillar by Edelgard as she dove with enough force to send them both rolling in a tangle of arms, legs, and weapons.

Blaise was stunned breathless by Edelgard's face inches from her own, lavender eyes staring down upon her with concern.

"Are you harmed?" she demanded.

Blaise knew she had a million pains but couldn't for the life of her pinpoint where they were in this moment. Silently berating herself because this so wasn't the time to be rendered brainless, Blaise shook her head and just hoped Edelgard attributed her flush to the effects of battle. She sat up gingerly, tucking a tangled strand of Edelgard's normally immaculate hair behind her ear, the axe-wielding princess moving with her.

"Lady Edelgard!" Hubert's cry snapped Blaise to attention in time to see the beast raising a clawed hand.

This time it was Blaise's turn to act as she threw Edelgard upon the stone beside her. She felt the claws travel shy of their flattened position and then she was scrambling to her feet and pulling Edelgard along with her before it could retaliate with more accuracy.

The beast recovered faster than Blaise would have thought.

A nasty spell from Hubert gave it enough pause for Edelgard to bury her axe in it's front leg, seeping thick black blood onto both herself and the floor. Claude fired arrow after arrow into the monster's eyes, effectively driving it back where Balen waited. Her brother unleashed the Sword of the Creator in a fury of red that devastated it's hide and seemed to feast upon its flesh. Caspar, Ferdinand, Sylvain, Lorenz, Leonie, and even Hilda rushed it together as spells and arrows flew ahead of them.

The beast only seemed to scream louder.

How could it still be standing? Could it even be defeated by them?

Exhausted, Blaise took deep breaths. She could taste her own blood in her mouth, her lips dry and cracked. One more spell was left within her and that was it. She drew Edelgard's Crests to her, she coaxed her own around, she pulled anything and everything that would come to her. She concentrated it all at the beast's feet.

Stone ruptured, throwing dust and debris into the air.

Edelgard was closest to the initial fissure and she ripped her axe from her latest attack on the beast, whirling around on Blaise, flinging the beast's blood in every direction.

Blaise knew she understood when she smiled, an action that still made her stomach flutter strangely even though Edelgard was covered head to toe in red and black blood.

An image of black armor and a red cloak flashed unbidden in her mind's eye.

She blinked furiously.

"Black Eagles, Golden Deer, fall back now!" Edelgard commanded, her mess of hair clinging to her face and neck as she spun to give the order.

They listened and Blaise found it in herself to smile. Of course they would listen to her.

Blaise poured energy into the fissure, extending it across the floor. It heated until the stone melted beneath the black beast and it's massive feet sank into the magma. It's cry was deafening and Blaise saw Lysithea drop her sword to cover her ears.

The beast attempted to claw it's way out of the burning mix of stone and fire and most everyone retreated further lest it throw magma or the thick gouges in the stone allowed the magma to flow out toward them.

Blaise wasn't one of them that retreated, gritting her teeth in concentration.

Come on. Come on.

She willed the floor to break already or melt or something.

There was one scary moment where she thought she'd failed. Where it looked as if it would claw it's way out toward her. Edelgard hefted her axe, stepping in front of Blaise with every intention to intercept.

She thought her heart might have stopped in that moment.

Then the Sword of the Creator snapped out, viciously striking at the beast as Balen threw himself between them.

It stepped back and there was a horrid tremble as the floor finally gave way. The beast fell from sight, Blaise swearing it's fall rocked the entire tower. Trembling at the sudden silence, Blaise remained rooted to the spot even as more of the floor cracked toward her.

"Retreat, students of the Officer's Academy!"

Was that Gilbert? She hadn't even known he'd made it this far.

Balen fell upon her before she could process the order, her brother reaching out and throwing Edelgard into Claude. Then, barely breaking stride, Balen grabbed Blaise around the waist as he sheathed his sword and dragged her away from the collapsing battlefield.

_A/N:_

_When I first played the game, I made the irresponsible decision to stay up until 1am (very unlike me) playing this chapter and, of course, got the black beast video and about had a heart attack at the dramatic shift in the game's tone. That said, I admit to being a wuss. :)_

_Point being, the story gets a little darker from here until the time skip so mentally prepare thyself_. _I really do adore fluff and definitely happy endings, but I also think_ _the more they have to work for it, the sweeter it is._

_Important take away from this chapter: Blaise is suspicious and not just of Rhea. Finally._ _What will happen when gets the time to sit down and think?_


	16. Chapter 15

Despite the age of Conand Tower and the abuse it suffered under Miklan in recent days, it was still overwhelmingly stable. The area in the immediate vicinity of Blaise's spell collapsed to the floor below, but the outer rim held strong. The stairwells that were meant to have been their end became their safe haven until the tower steadied.

Blaise, with her back pressed against damp stone, shut her eyes, trying to wind down from the adrenaline.

It wasn't very pleasant. The stairwell was foul with sweat, blood, and death. The bodies of thieves covered much of the stairs themselves.

"Teach!" Claude's strained call was nearby. It was a foreign sound coming from him.

Her brother, the person she had no doubt was the one in her personal space right now, made a strange sound, like his breath had caught in his throat.

Great. She was going to have to open her eyes and see what was so distressing to him. If only they didn't feel so heavy... She really didn't want to.

"Can you stop it?" Claude implored.

There was a gasp, this time from Edelgard, and Blaise's eyes shot open. If she was concerned, that required Blaise's attention. She was surprised to find the three of them surrounding her though she only really cared about the lavender eyes of which were wide and fixated at a point downward. Blaise followed the gaze and blinked.

Oh.

Her hand that held the Lance of Ruin was encapsulated with the black sludge. Now that she thought about it, her hand did burn like it had been dropped in a bucket of weapon finish.

Balen didn't answer but held a glowing hand over hers, his brow creased.

Nothing happened.

Edelgard suddenly spun to look down the stairwell. "Someone get Sylvain up here!" she ordered, a hint of hysteria sharpening her tone.

Blaise tilted her head.

Fear wasn't necessary, Edelgard.

Such upset Blaise more than the acidic burns beneath the sludge so she reached out to the Lance of Ruin's Crest. It still struck violently around though with less fury since she only held it passively. Blaise coaxed it back to the lance, nudging it along until it swirled smoothly instead of striking out.

"Her taking the lance from Miklan didn't stop it from consuming him," Claude warned.

The princess spun on the future duke, eyes flashing like fire. "So what do you suggest, Claude?" she snarled.

The stone in the lance was no longer dark and angry. It wasn't even glowing. The lance itself was silent and had gone passive. Black sludge dripped from her wrist onto the ground, sizzling against the floor.

"What are you doing?" Balen asked, his question enough that Claude and Edelgard stopped their argument to fixate back on her.

A moment of silence passed, Blaise ever so lightly dragging a finger over the stone imbedded in the lance. How could she explain it only wanted rest? Peace?

The green-haired youth hadn't attacked her.

What did it all mean?

Instinctively, Blaise slipped a finger beneath the stone.

Balen's hand grabbed her elbow. "You might break it," he cautioned.

Blaise glanced over her shoulder at the devastation of their battle before frowning up at her brother. **_Maybe it should be broken._ **

She held his gaze steadily. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, his features blank. He neither argued or removed his hand from her.

"Lady Edelgard!" Petra's distressed call had Blaise momentarily forgetting the Lance of Ruin as she turned to see the Brigidian forcing her way to stand before her house leader. Blaise scanned her for injuries, but it was impossible to tell with all the blood covering her. "We are not finding Sylvain," she admitted.

Blaise's heart skipped a beat and she pulled away from Balen. **_Who saw him last?_ **

"Did anyone see him reach the stairwell?" Edelgard demanded.

"Blaise and Teach were the last one's to get here," Claude offered in what Blaise supposed was meant to be reassuring.

It did not help much considering half the floor they were on had fallen through. What if he had been closer to the damage than anyone had realized? What if he hadn't made it this far?

Blaise was shoving by Claude and Petra, making her way haphazardly down the stairs with Edelgard on her heels.

"No one knows anything?" Edelgard snapped when no answers traveled to her.

Even Hubert said nothing except to apologize for his inability to account for everyone which wasn't even his job.

Blaise just continued forcing her way down, combing the shadows for the red-headed knight as concerned Black Eagles fell in step behind her and Edelgard. She reached the ground floor, seeing nothing of Sylvain. Sir Gilbert was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs, the knight frowning as he considered the way out. "We must be cautious. It would not do to disturb what has only recently settled."

She ignored him as she had zero intentions of getting out at the moment.

"Ms. Eisner, where do you think you are going?" Gilbert's tone quickly shifted from thoughtful to disapproving as Blaise not only walked right past him but also stalked out toward the piles of broken stone that had once been the floor above. "Halt!" There was the distinct sound of moving armor and a rising murmur from her students that she couldn't ignore.

Blaise paused, grinding her teeth.

"Sir Gilbert, we are missing a companion. It is imperative we search this floor," Edelgard spoke for her.

"This tower is hazardous. I forbid any students from going anywhere except in the direction outside," he argued, the murmuring of the Black Eagles rising in protest. "Ms. Eisner, if you fail to control your students, I will be forced to relay such to the Archbishop."

Blaise rolled her eyes, her back still facing him. As far as she was concerned, she wasn't the one failing to control them. Still, she spun where she stood. **_Edelgard, escort the Black Eagles outside._ **

The protests quieted, Edelgard in particular displeased if the way she pressed her lips in a thin line said anything.

"My teacher, I request you allow me to accompany you. Hubert can escort the rest of our class outside," Edelgard insisted.

Blaise didn't think Hubert was pleased with that request.

"You cannot venture out on your own," Edelgard continued either unaware of the glower Hubert was expressing or, more likely, ignoring it.

A part of her didn't really care if Edelgard accompanied her. She wasn't too concerned of her getting hurt by any instability in the tower's structure. Edelgard was nothing if not careful. There was another part of her, however, that thought it might be selfish when she didn't know what she might find. Having Edelgard there... it almost felt like security and that wouldn't be fair.

"How admirable, Princess. Personally, I find it best suited for Teach to accompany her while us two..." Claude somehow slipped through the cluster of Black Eagles to stand beside Edelgard, nudging her in the side with his elbow, "… Supreme House Leaders find a safe location."

Edelgard laughed humorlessly and Blaise thought her glare might actually set Claude on fire. "A safe location? Tell me, Claude, do you think of anything besides your own comfort? We have a missing companion…"

The Imperial Princess cut off abruptly as Claude leaned forward, his voice lowering.

"All the more reason…" Edelgard started to argue only for Claude to interrupt her again, making her flush with frustration.

A couple seconds passed before he stopped talking. When Edelgard did nothing more than to glare with her arms crossed disapprovingly, Claude grinned and turned to Gilbert. "Gilbert, let's see about getting us all out of here," he suggested. Another nudge into Edelgard with his elbow.

"If I recall correctly..." Edelgard began in a voice that sounded as scripted as it was forced, "... there is a village a twenty minutes hike South that may give us rest."

"Excellent," Claude enthused, far too excitable and raising his hand as if to pat Edelgard on the back only to retreat when she narrowed her eyes into thin slits. "We'll see you there, Teach, Blaise," he offered.

Edelgard gave her one more long look as if to see if Blaise would stop her before she followed the Golden Deer house leader, ushering her classmates along as well.

Blaise didn't know exactly what had just happened, but whatever it was was fine enough. It saved her from having to make the decision herself and risk upsetting Gilbert. She turned around and was carefully maneuvering around fallen stone well before the odd conversation among the students grew impossible to hear.

She was aware of Balen. It was hard not to be as he kept some distance behind her, presumably inspecting her path more thoroughly while she rushed through. She didn't know why else he would stay distant.

Gone was the fear she had felt upon hearing of Sylvain's disappearance, replaced with a mercenary's calm. Or maybe it was just some form of shock and denial that numbed her. She didn't stop long enough to consider which.

Finally, turning a corner around a mound of debris near the center of the devastation, Blaise saw him.

She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

He was kneeling but not obviously injured any more than anyone else. Closer inspection showed he knelt beside his brother. Blaise hadn't expected to see Miklan as he was, but he was a man and no longer a beast.

But he still wasn't moving.

A pit settled deep in her stomach and she stopped approaching. She looked away, only for her gaze to be drawn back. She felt like she was intruding, and, yet, she couldn't leave, couldn't stop the image from burning into her mind's eye.

Balen's silent and oddly grounding presence drew level with her, stopping close enough that their shoulders brushed.

**_Was it cruel of me to bring him?_ **

**_It was his decision._ **

She supposed Balen was right. Sylvain never would have been on the mission if he hadn't petitioned for it. Still, maybe she shouldn't have let him. The only outcome was Miklan's death or their own, neither of which he'd needed to see.

**_It was better this way._ **

Blaise jerked at Balen's words. Her brother had always been blunt if he spoke at all but never cruel. **_That's horrid, Balen._ **

His head tilted towards her, and she found her gaze drawn to him as he continued his thought. **_If I were to die in battle, I would rather it be by your blade than anyone else's._ **

…

What?

**_I would know the reason was worth fighting for even if I did not agree. I would know you would be okay without me. I would see you in the end. I believe there are worse deaths than that._ **

Blaise grimaced, but he wasn't exactly wrong. There was something simultaneously morbid and comforting at the thought of dying on the end of a blade by someone you loved. She could understand what he meant. If he thought it would be better without her... maybe that was okay. She could die knowing he no longer needed her and not worry she was leaving him too soon.

She didn't think she would hate him for it.

Did that extend to Miklan? By all accounts, the Gautier brothers hated one another.

But Sylvain did not hate Miklan, Blaise was certain. Who was to say what Miklan thought?

She had no worthy response to her brother. Frankly, she'd rather not think anymore into his, or even her, death and, so, Blaise gave his elbow a gentle squeeze as she brushed by to join Sylvain.

The Blue Lion student didn't look up as Blaise knelt down next to him, but he spoke whether he knew exactly who it was or not. "Most noble families require their heir to have a Crest, but House Guatier takes it the farthest," he admitted, his eyes flickering to Lance of Ruin Blaise held. "It's a necessity. To guard the Northern border, we require the Lance of Ruin and, to wield it, we must bear the Crest. They tested me at birth, and Miklan hated me from that moment on. My father disinherited Miklan, his firstborn son, the very second my Crest manifested." He sucked in a breath, tearing his gaze to Blaise. "I thought it would be a relief to have him gone. He tried to kill me, you know. Multiple times. Yet... it all feels so pointless. I never wanted to take anything from him and somehow I still took everything. By the nature we live by, I'm supposed to be okay with that..." Sylvain stood quite suddenly, brown eyes burning and fists clenched at his sides. "… Well, I'm not okay with that." In one fluid motion, he unclasped his cloak, draping it over Miklan's motionless form. "Miklan… my brother... I hope you find the peace you could not have in life."

Silence followed his words.

There wasn't anything to say even if she could speak or had paper to write on or if Sylvain understood Sign.

She rose slowly to stand beside him, linking one arm with his in silent support.

It was several minutes later before his brooding subsided, and he turned slightly to face her. "Say, Blaise, I know I've exhausted the number of favors I should be able to ask of you, but may I ask one more?"

Blaise nodded. She could give him that.

"Would you mind …" Sylvain made a motion with his hand, a crude representation of magic, "... Goddess knows my father will not give him that honor," he whispered.

Blaise knew what he was asking. Internally, she winced at the thought of a father who would leave his own son to feed the rats.

Such was the life of the Crestless, she supposed.

She unlinked her arm from Sylvain's, stepping just in front of him. Blaise held the Lance of Ruin in her hand, the weapon still and silent. She gripped it hard. All this for this lance?

Sylvain was right. It was pointless. No one truly deserved to die this way, she did not think.

If no one else would, Blaise would grant Miklan the peace in death his father would deny him.

Fire flickered in her hand, quickly growing into a stream she aimed upon Miklan's body. It spread, engulfing him who had once been the eldest son of House Gautier.

Blaise chanced another glance at the Lance of Ruin, the reflection of the fire lighting the stone within the lance so that it glowed eerily despite it's passivity. She heard Sylvain walk away, and she turned to follow, her heart aching with regret, only to pause halfway.

There, leaning against a pile of rubble and eyes locked on the flames of Miklan's cremation, stood Ukai. Green hair, green eyes, a distant, pained expression upon his face, Blaise regarded him until he looked to her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but she amended her previous thought.

Such wasn't the life of the Crestless but the imprisoned, the shackled.

Miklan and Sylvain were both victims, ensnared in something that went far beyond Crest or no Crest.

Ukai nodded to her, and Blaise nodded in return.

She followed Sylvain then, falling in step with him and Balen as they traversed to the village just down the road.

She made a vow as the rain shifted into flurries of snow.

Everyone who had been denied peace would find it even if she alone had to rage against injustices a millennium old.

~FE~

Nobody wanted to touch the Lance of Ruin. Frankly, Blaise didn't want to give it to anyone, but Claude did wonder aloud if it would not be safer in Sylvain's hands. So Blaise grit her teeth lest she come across as suspicious and attempted to give it to the Gautier knight.

The stone immediately flared to life.

It was controlled, Sylvain possessing the resonating Crest.

Still, Black Eagles and Golden Deer alike winced, Bernadetta even diving under a table in the village inn's seating area as if she expected Sylvain to spontaneously combust into a dark beast right there. Blaise, herself, felt like she was punched in the stomach.

In the end, Sylvain shoved the Lance of Ruin back into Blaise's hands, and she quieted it in much the same way as before.

Gilbert wasn't happy with her and, thus, wasn't too happy about her taking charge of the Lance of Ruin either. She noted, however, that despite his complaints, he never offered to carry it even after she bundled it up in cloth thinking it might remain dormant when held by anyone else.

Not that she would have given the lance to him regardless, but that was neither here nor there.

Blaise kept the lance.

The inn they were staying in wasn't very big, and it was also housing villagers whose homes had been damaged by Miklan's band of thieves, but they managed to secure four rooms. A room for the males and females for each House with Sylvain naturally rooming with the Black Eagle boys.

Blaise didn't intrude on the four girls of her house. The room was crowded enough without her, and she was the last in line to bathe anyway. She would probably end up taking a catnap in the inn's seating area. It wasn't like she hadn't done such before.

It felt like hours before Balen finally vacated, and the innkeeper had drawn fresh water, but Blaise was finally invited in. Throwing her bag in one corner and standing her sword and the Lance of Ruin up against the wall, she stripped herself of her armor, but that was about as far as she got.

Her glove was stuck.

One came off easily enough, but the other tugged against blistered skin, sending waves of pain through her brain.

Great.

Sitting on the edge of the bath, Blaise gently, carefully, separated the glove from her skin as best she could, but it still snagged on the sensitive skin when she tried to pull it.

Goddess, it was surprisingly painful.

Giving up on the endeavor herself, Blaise stuck her head out the door for someone to help.

She couldn't say she was shocked to see Edelgard in the seat she had vacated by the fire, her silver hair slightly darker from her bath but, once again, brushed to it's normal immaculate state.

It made Blaise feel like a stray dog in her current state.

She knocked on the wooden door, Edelgard's head swiveling at the sound. She motioned Edelgard over with her good hand which, of course, drew a suspicious look from her house leader. **_My glove is stuck._ **

Blaise's explanation did nothing to soften her suspicion. "Your glove is stuck?" Edelgard repeated in such a way Blaise thought she was questioning her legibility of Sign.

It did sound a tad ridiculous, Blaise supposed.

When Blaise nodded and proffered the gloved hand for her to see, Edelgard frowned and stood from her chair to approach. "Did you break your wrist?" she asked.

She shook her head this time, making a show of her wrist's smooth movements.

Edelgard was beside her then, inspecting her hand. Her eyes flickered up to look at Blaise when the mercenary winced despite the princess's attempt to stretch the glove so it wouldn't touch skin as it was drawn off. Edelgard clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "You should have said something before now. It's best to cut it off," she admitted.

**_The glove or my hand?_ **

It seemed like a stupid question, but she was quite dependent on her hands so felt it was necessary to clarify.

Edelgard sighed, briefly pinching the bridge of her nose even as her lips twitched upwards. "The glove, my teacher. I believe your hand is salvageable."

**_Just making sure._ **

"Sit over there and hold still," Edelgard ordered, Blaise obediently sitting back on the edge of the bath while Edelgard drew the lantern closer and pulled a jeweled dagger from her belt. It was a very nice dagger, Blaise mused as Edelgard carefully cut through the glove's fabric with it's wickedly sharp edge. Expensive. It might even be silver.

In contrast, Blaise's hand was quite gruesome indeed when Edelgard began to peel the glove off piece by piece. She was surprised by the amount of blood there was, the glove apparently having done a spectacular job of hiding the damage. The bathwater stung like fire when she dipped it in to wash off the blood, revealing raw and blistered skin beneath.

"We're going to have to get you a different color. The black is too misleading," Edelgard decided, shaking her head. "What did you do for this to happen?"

Blaise wasn't sure, but she had a hunch, nodding behind Edelgard to where the Lance of Ruin stood against the wall.

Edelgard hummed, her brow creasing. "Well, you may as well finish bathing. I can bandage it when you come out. You can manage with one hand, yes?"

Another nod.

She had done so on more than one occasion. She could probably even bandage her hand herself.

**_You should sleep._ **

Edelgard paused on her way out. "I will," she assured her.

Blaise watched her leave with a concerned frown. Of course she would... eventually, but each second that passed made it ever clearer it wouldn't be tonight. Shaking her head, Blaise decided she would insist once she got out. As such, she tried to be fast, ducking under the water and using her good hand to scrub the blood, sweat, and dirt from her skin and hair, followed by a generous amount of soap that smelled vaguely floral. She marveled briefly at the lack of healer–required injuries she had sustained, considering the circumstances.

Redressing was harder, but it wasn't like she had to put her armor back on. She felt about a hundred times better with a fresh shirt and trousers, hair and skin clean even if her hair was still too saturated with water to brush effectively.

Gathering her stuff back together, Blaise wondered if she should burn her discarded clothes, but that was a thought for tomorrow morning.

Edelgard had returned to her spot by the fire, staring into it's depths so intensely it was quite obvious she was deep in her thoughts. More of a surprise was Hubert's presence as he paced up and down behind her.

Well, Blaise supposed his presence wasn't that strange, but his agitation was certainly more than she expected. She paused joining them when he spoke.

"Caspar said he saw a glow. An aura," Hubert's voice was low and controlled if a tad cold.

"That's ridiculous, Hubert. You know Caspar is dramatic. He only saw the glow of the Hero's Relic," Edelgard returned. She didn't look away from the fire.

"It should have consumed her. You saw as well as I when that thief lost complete control and it turned on her. Instead, she managed to wrest the Lance of Ruin from a half-formed Black Beast that should have had no problem killing her?" Hubert challenged, his hand on his chin.

Blaise was struck suddenly that they were speaking of her. Her stomach did funny flips that made her a bit nauseas.

"Then Caspar says he saw a glow... dramatic or not, it is suspicious all the same."

Edelgard did snap away from the fire then in favor of glaring at her vassal. "Would you drop the glow, Hubert? The beast was upon her, the Lance of Ruin's power around her. No one could see a glow if there even had been one," she hissed.

"My apologies, Lady Edelgard, however, it is my duty to think of all possibilities…" Hubert returned, eyeing Edelgard as if he could see right through her, not unlike Edelgard herself was prone to do. "... personal feelings aside."

Blaise could see Edelgard flush from this distance. "Your insinuation is inaccurate."

"Arguing is futile, Lady Edelgard. I believe everyone saw you cut through the thieves to get to her. You were second only to our guardian's brother and he wields the Sword of the Creator of which can fell twice as many foes in one strike," Hubert sighed, Edelgard notably silent following the statement. "She shouldn't be alive whether because of the Lance of Ruin or the Black Beast," he insisted.

"By the contrary, Blaise has a Crest. A major Crest at that. It makes perfect sense in my mind she was unharmed by that which you speak of," Edelgard argued.

Hubert resumed pacing, his cloak flying behind him and a dark gleam in his eyes. "There is a connection between Chevalier and the Relics..."

Edelgard rolled her eyes. "That's hardly new information."

Hubert appeared to ignore her, continuing as if she hadn't interrupted him. "... and there is a connection between the Relics and the black beasts."

"Hubert…" Edelgard warned.

"By the property of association..."

"I order you to desist this conversation, Hubert," Edelgard interrupted sharply.

Hubert cut off his sentence, albeit with obvious reluctance. He did, however, bow to the Imperial princess. "As you command, Lady Edelgard. I only ask that you bear in mind the dark secrets we already know of Chevalier. It may be our current path is too risky."

"I will," Edelgard promised. "And I ask you to bear in mind, the only secrets we know are little more than rumors. Our path will remain as it is. I've already explained this to you. My power alone is insufficient."

Hubert bowed a second time. "I will continue my research in light of the new information. Excuse me."

Blaise backed away into the bath before he could turn around and potentially see her. She knew very well none of that conversation had been meant for her to hear. Her head was spinning quite a bit, preventing her from determining what about it upset her the most. Was it the mere fact she was the topic of conversation? Was it Hubert's implications? Was it how she felt as less of a person after hearing it?

Distracted as she was, Blaise tripped on a slightly elevated part of the wood floor. Her weapons dropped to the floor with an impressive clatter that probably woke someone in the inn up as she desperately grabbed at the washbasin counter to stop herself from hitting the ground in much the same way.

She hadn't even recovered before Edelgard appeared in the open doorway. "Blaise, are you okay? What happened?" she demanded.

**_Tripped. Nothing exciting._ **

Blaise didn't look at her as she straightened with a flourish and fumbled to regather all her items. Edelgard beat her to it, picking up her bag and sword and leaving Blaise with only the Lance of Ruin. Blaise followed her out, Signing a quick "Thanks" and generally hoping she would attribute any awkwardness Blaise exhibited to embarrassment.

They settled themselves in front of the fire, most everything finding it's way onto the floor while Edelgard wasted no time in bandaging Blaise's wounded hand as she'd said she would.

Blaise herself ignored the mild discomfort by staring in the opposite direction, her thoughts once again derailing on her.

She supposed she shouldn't be upset Edelgard and Hubert had been discussing her. Caspar obviously had as well, and she'd be an idiot to think others weren't too. Everything about her seemed odd enough to warrant constant gossip.

At this point, she'd probably surpassed Balen in being odd.

Why was that and why did it bother her so?

"How does that feel?" Edelgard's question interrupted her spiraling thoughts.

It took Blaise a moment to realize she was asking about her hand. With a frown, she experimentally flexed her fingers one by one. Her hand was sore and the blisters still painful, but the bandages were applied as well as any. She at least could move her fingers with the vulnerary paste acting as a barrier to keep her blistered skin from sticking to the bandage fibers.

"I can send for Dorothea..."

**_No. It's fine._ **

"Honestly, I believe she is still awake. It would be no trouble if it is bothering you," Edelgard insisted, beginning to rise from her seat.

Blaise rested her hand on Edelgard's arm and coaxed her back down. **_It's not bothering me._ **

It didn't need white magic to heal. The vulnerary paste would do so by the morning.

Edelgard complied, the two falling in a silence Blaise wouldn't quite call comfortable or uncomfortable .

Blaise found her attention drawn to the Lance of Ruin and settling upon the stone imbedded within it. What was she going to do with it? She couldn't just give it back to Rhea so she could give it back to the head of House Gautier. Everything would start all over again. Maybe not today or tomorrow but sooner rather than later.

"I keep thinking about what happened," Edelgard admitted, Blaise glancing up to see she, too, was studying the Lance of Ruin. "Miklan was discarded by his family because he was born without a Crest. Eventually, he became a masterful thief and gathered enough ruffians to capture a fortress." Her eyes flickered up to meet Blaise's. "Right or wrong, he was a gifted leader. He could have been a great asset to Fodlan. What a waste," she lamented.

Her words washed over Blaise, an echo of hers and Sylvain's earlier thoughts if less personal. How could a system continue to be used when so many people were in some way harmed or otherwise had a problem with it?

"What do you think, my teacher?"

Blaise jerked slightly at the unexpected question and took her time pulling the Lance of Ruin to rest across her lap, fingers idly caressing the stone. What did she think? Really and truly.

It was a convoluted question.

On the one hand, she didn't think there was anything particularly wrong with Crests. Her resonance with another's Crest was as liberating an experience she had ever had as of yet. The Crests themselves didn't seem to hurt anybody except, according to Chevalier, maybe her own. Of course, that didn't mean people should have them at all. Still, the most problems seemed to arise from the system, how people used them, manipulating them, worshiping them... So, again, why was this system in place to begin with?

**_I do not understand the Crest-based society. Why the obsession?_ **

Edelgard hummed, leaning back in her chair. "I forget Jeralt raised you outside the influence of the Church and even Fodlan's working politics..." she paused as if searching for words, "… Crests are believed to be blessings from the Goddess and it's true that a Crest can increase your magical abilities and allow you to wield the full might of a Hero's Relic. People believe they're necessary to maintain order in Fodlan..."

**_That sounds limiting._ **

Relying on such a small population to "maintain order," it was no wonder Fodlan was falling apart.

"I agree. What Fodlan needs are true leaders and one cannot measure their worth based solely on whether or not they bear a Crest. There are plenty of talented people in this world without one, yet we elevate only the select few who bear the Goddess' gift."

Blaise wasn't sure, but she thought she heard an edge of venom in Edelgard's words.

"…Never mind they may not be suited for such a position in the first place," Edelgard added, trailing off so that a tumultuous silence fell between them.

Blaise waited, certain Edelgard was preparing something else to say. The silence made her skin prickle, but several minutes hadn't passed when Edelgard looked back at her, lavender eyes ablaze. Her voice lowered to a whisper, but was still clear as day, Blaise drawn forward by her projection.

"Have you ever wondered if the only way to create a truly free world is to dispense with the Goddess and the Crests? Do that, and people will have no choice but to rise and fall by their own merits."

A world without the Goddess and the Crests?

It surprised her when she was struck by a deep sadness.

To walk and not feel Crests dance around her... She would miss it.

But that was being selfish.

If she had learned anything from this it was that nobles and commoners alike were being crushed beneath the strain of these so-called blessings, they wreaked havoc when used incorrectly, the Nabateans suffered in death.

Edelgard was still staring at her, just waiting, when Blaise raised her hand.

**_No one will ever find peace if they only look to Crests. This never should have been created. _**Blaise, in an action that likely would have had Rhea sentencing her to death, tossed the Lance of Ruin to the ground. Edelgard didn't so much as flinch, barely even acknowledging the action with a brief flicker of her eyes. **_I think I would miss them though._ **

Edelgard's pensive expression shifted to a frown. "The Crests?"

Blaise shrugged, running a hand through her hair. **_It's like Zanado. There would be nothing left but broken pieces and shattered memories._ **

Lost to history.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It didn't mean it wasn't a step that needed to be taken. Change was just bittersweet at times.

She leaned forward, hovering her hand over Edelgard's and pulling at her Crest of Seiros until it's shadow appeared. It's pulse swirled around her arm, it's shadow tickled her fingers. It was soft and warm like a caress.

**_I would miss this, but if I am the only one to know what was lost..._ **

The dance of Crests, the Nabateans, Zanado… Chevalier.

**_… I would be okay with that._ **

No one could truly miss something they knew nothing of.

Blaise pulled her hand away with the intention of ending the connection except Edelgard snapped out to grab it first. Flipping Blaise's hand over, she switched them so hers hovered atop. Blaise twitched as she felt her Crest drawn out, Chevalier now alight between them.

"Only we will know what was lost," Edelgard corrected, her voice soft with sympathy yet her expression hard with determination. She shifted their fingers to intertwine, eyes on Blaise alone.

She knew what hadn't been said.

Edelgard had already made her choice.

Blaise felt her breath catch in her chest, heat flooding her from the top of her head down to her toes. She studied their hands as intently as Edelgard was studying her.

She made no attempt to disentangle them.

~FE~

Blaise didn't quite know what to make of the night as they sat by the fire, neither sleeping until well into the morning hours. Even then it was only Edelgard who dozed off after having given in to the desire to rest against Blaise's shoulder. It didn't take but minutes after that for Blaise to feel the slower, even breaths against her skin that suggested Edelgard had finally succumbed to sleep. Blaise didn't move for fear of waking her except to throw a shabby blanket over her as best she could from the awkward angle.

She was left once again at the mercy of her thoughts to which she continued to wonder what was going on. Every time she blinked, Blaise saw a red and white mask, she saw armor black as obsidian and a crimson cloak. Her pendant of the same colors seemed heavy around her neck.

How many coincidences were too many?

Could the young woman peacefully asleep upon her shoulder really masquerade as the mysterious Flame Emperor?

The alias made a stupid amount of sense in hindsight. They both had issues of some sort against the Church, they had both been to Enbarr and Fhirdiad, their choice of weapon and the color of their armor was the same, the Flame Emperor knew things she had only told Edelgard and vice versa. Their Crests... granted, she'd need to feel the Flame Emperor's once more to ensure she could feel the two distinct Crests that matched Edelgard's, but she had a strong feeling they would.

The things that didn't add up?

The Flame Emperor was taller... as if the full-body armor couldn't account for a slight increase in height. The Flame Emperor could warp... but there were objects that could allow that and who was to say Edelgard couldn't warp? Maybe she just hadn't seen it.

That was it.

Oddly enough, what bothered her the most was the thought the Flame Emperor might have known who she was all along. The thought that she had, potentially, told Edelgard her desire to find Chevalier and dragged her through Zanado while being chased by monsters when they had only just gotten to know each other was quite mortifying in a way she hadn't cared when she thought the Flame Emperor a complete stranger.

Then again why would a complete stranger suffer through any of that?

Blaise huffed, resting her chin in her hand not taken over by Edelgard.

She had been a simple mercenary. How had she become entangled in such conspiracies?

The purging of the Western Church...

The rumors of the Death Knight...

She struggled to connect them to the girl with silver hair and lavender eyes who liked carnations and laughed with her peers in the dining hall.

But she knew Edelgard had plans she wasn't exactly privy too. Blaise had literally just heard her and Hubert, and Edelgard had hinted at a lot in their conversation even if it wasn't explicitly said. Blaise berated herself because even knowing that, she was most concerned with where she fit into it and not what it was actually about.

Blaise glanced at their fingers still intertwined.

She wondered if she should disentangle them.

Dawn came and she hadn't.

She nudged Edelgard awake soon after, knowing she would have no desire for anyone to walk in on her in such a vulnerable state, and steered her toward the stairs to finish the morning out in her room with the other Black Eagle girls.

They eventually set out around noon, opting for a longer rest and shorter march that day considering the battle the day before.

Their return to Garreg Mach as a whole took longer than their departure had, no one fully recovering despite their nightly breaks. That said, the overall disposition of the group was more cheerful as the battle faded from their minds.

Blaise hung back from the front and often found herself in the middle of her students as they all crowded around her, asking her this and that from the mundane such as her opinion of Faerghus' terrain to something more important like what would be done with the Lance of Ruin.

"It's intriguing how you are able to calm it so. I have never heard of such in any of my research," Linhardt mused. Of all of them, he surprised her the most. Not so much in that he was following her around and asking borderline invasive questions, but that he seemed to forgo sleep in favor of her to the point Edelgard had to threaten him to leave her alone so she could get some sleep herself.

An action that amused Dorothea to no end. "I'd ease up on our dear Blaise, Lin. You won't want to be in between the two should Edie perceive Blaise's sleep is in danger," she teased. "… Or any other part of her," she added slyly.

Edelgard's hand clenched the shaft of her axe. "As house leader it is my duty to ensure everyone is finding adequate rest. My concern is as much for Linhardt..."

"Did you steal that line from Hubert, Edelgard?" Caspar interrupted, the princess gritting her teeth while even Hubert smirked just a tad.

"No."

"You are mistaken, Caspar. Edelgard would not be stealing from Hubert," Petra argued.

Ferdinand let out a jaunty laugh, drawing even with the Brigidian. "It is an expression that she is beginning to speak in a way that sounds like Hubert," he explained.

"Oh, it is reminding me much of Hubert," Petra admitted, eliciting a sigh from the Imperial princess.

"How many thieves did you take out anyway?" Caspar inquired.

Edelgard huffed with exasperation, a hand moving to rest against her head. "I did not count, Caspar."

"Six," Hubert stated so that many pairs of eyes swiveled toward him. "Assuming you are asking strictly for those fallen during her charge through the defenses of which reunited her with Blaise against the black beast," he clarified.

Caspar let out a low whistle.

"Th–that's hardly accurate. Most were more concerned of running away from Miklan," Edelgard insisted, now getting thoroughly flustered.

"Six?!" Ferdinand exclaimed, eyes elated and his chest puffing out. "I am pleased to announce that I, Ferdinand von Aegir..."

"Would you please desist saying your entire name every time you make an announcement? It is really quite bothersome," Linhardt interrupted although Ferdinand kept going as if he hadn't heard.

"… finally surpassed Edelgard when I slew seven thieves in my defense of the stairwell!"

Silence of disbelief followed his exclamation. It was just a matter of who would be the one to burst his bubble.

"Um, actually," Bernadetta mumbled, her hands playing nervously with her bow. "There were only five because I, um…"

"Bernie was aiming arrows around you with such skills you did not see," Petra finished for her, pumping her fist with a smile at the archer.

Bernadetta smiled weakly while Ferdinand pouted. "Are you in jest? I could have sworn…"

"Oh, Ferdie…" Dorothea laughed as the knight turned a shade of red.

Hubert crossed his arms and nodded to his timid classmate, earning a bit of a squeak from the girl. "Assistance from Bernadetta makes that claim significantly more believable."

Ferdinand sighed, rubbing his head. "Fine. Fine. Clearly, I must keep striving. Next time then, Edelgard."

Her response was a groan.

Blaise pretended not to be listening to most of that conversation, instead writing out something for Sylvain riding along beside her. She was listening though and chanced a glance at the flustered Edelgard, feeling a bit of a warm glow.

Six thieves, huh?

Blaise felt quite light indeed, Sylvain narrowing his eyes in thoughtful suspicion as she passed him her instructions. There might have been an extra bounce to her step for the last leg of their journey.

Even being dragged off to see Rhea immediately upon their return to the monastery didn't quite squash her good mood. She did refuse to turn over the Lance of Ruin to the Church and Rhea did swell with fury which was as terrifying as she thought it would be, but her foresight (and Balen) managed to smooth things over.

She convinced Sylvain to take possession of the weapon, deciding it would be easier to get it back from him than it would be Rhea once she had figured out what she should actually do with it. She suspected Sylvain wouldn't even use it unless he had to.

Rhea … wasn't pleased exactly, but Balen seconded the opinion for it to return to the Blue Lion student and she conceded with a warning to the young Gautier heir.

The students, and their professors by association, were given a post-mission break for the next few days.

Blaise took that as permission to stay in her room to rest and recoup, which she did, alternating between drawing in her notebook and contemplating everything going on around her. Edelgard, specifically.

When had she gotten so soft?

She had been a mercenary as long as she could remember. A damn sellsword. She performed whatever vague job someone gave her, took the money, and left on decent terms.

Now, here she was drawing carnations in her book.

And not regretting a second of it.

That little voice in her head told her she was being stupid, she should be asking questions, she should be trying to understand the big picture.

But Blaise didn't want to.

She didn't want to think of the hard stuff. She wanted it to stay easy and... happy.

It struck her to think that she was happy.

Finally.

That was why she didn't think into their differences in status and what that could mean, why she didn't care to delve into the shadows to see what was behind.

What good could come from that?

She focused solely on their interactions, growing more confident that she wasn't seeing into things that weren't there.

They would talk about it eventually when they both wanted to and it would surely make sense.

Blaise rolled over on her bed to stare at the ceiling.

Besides she was just as guilty of playing both sides and… frankly, didn't regret, per se, any of it.

So lost in her own head she barely heard when there was a knock on the door, a sharp, echoing sound.

Blaise frowned, glancing out the window. A little late for unexpected visitors but she tossed her quill onto her notebook and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Throwing the door open, she was surprised to see Jeritza of all people outside her door. She blinked just in case she was seeing things but, no, there he stood complete with his ominous mask and some shiny black armor she didn't usually see him wearing.

"Your presence is required. Follow me," he ordered in a voice nearly as vacant as Balen's.

She raised an eyebrow. That was a bit more of a surprise as she hadn't heard of any meetings she needed to attend except one with Manuela that next afternoon. Blaise glanced at the window again before she nodded to him anyway, turning to retrieve her sword and buckle it around her waist.

A gloved hand pinned the sheath, sword and all, against the threshold of the door.

Blaise froze, her eyes downcast at the hand on her weapon as every nerve in her body jumped to alert.

"Your weapon is unnecessary."

Unnecessary?

Yeah, right.

Any person who said that deserved to have her sword in their gut.

Carefully neutralizing her expression, Blaise slowly looked up into the masked face she suddenly realized was way too close to her.

Nothing.

He just stood there.

So Blaise glared, jerking her sheath in a silent warning for him to remove his hand from it.

The next thing she knew, Jeritza barreled into her, knocking her on her back and into her room. The door shut as the weapons instructor followed her inside.

Blaise rolled, sweeping her sword out in front of her and catching Jeritza's blade inches from her face.

They held that position, Blaise's heart pounding against her chest as adrenaline coursed through her.

What in the Goddess' name was going on?

Jeritza moved first, once again, shoving her backward with little more effort than if she was a ragdoll. Surprised and off-balance, her retaliation met nothing but air, and a sharp pain shot through her head as the pommel of his sword fell unhindered upon her.

Stars in her eyes and blood flowing freely from the newly split skin, Blaise stumbled and only remained on her feet when Jeritza's arm encircled her waist.

Stay awake, she willed herself not to lose consciousness.

He tightened his hold around her and she thrashed, awkwardly turning her sword upon him, only for it to do nothing more than clip his mask. Then, her back hit a wall and there was nowhere to go as she felt his arm press into her throat, the tip of his sword poised above.

Their breathing was the only sound between them.

His mask had fallen and Blaise was shocked to find he was much younger than she had thought when his mask covered his features. He probably wasn't older than her.

"Drop the sword."

He pressed harder against her throat, and it grew increasingly difficult to breath. Her only blessing was that this guy didn't seem to want her dead yet so she just needed to buy some time. She sure as hell wasn't dropping her sword, her fingers instinctively tightening on the hilt.

Faster than lightning, he punched out, the pommel of his sword shattering her wrist.

The clang of her sword hitting the ground echoed.

Her vision, already swimming from the abuse, disappeared completely as the lantern upon her desk was extinguished.

They stood there, Jeritza's arm upon her neck and his sword against her chest the only reason she was still standing.

Her head ached, her lungs burned, her hand throbbed, her heart pounded. In the distance she heard footsteps and she longed to cry out for help, but she could not and they passed minutes later. Only then did Jeritza pull her from against the wall, twisting her arm behind her back and forcing her to stumble in front of him.

Reaching around, he opened the door with his sword hand before the weapon was positioned between her shoulder blades. He led her in the opposite direction of the footsteps, but then made a sharp left into a tight corridor just shy of the students' second floor dormitories.

She had never used this corridor before but soon found herself in the courtyards. It was very dark with no moon visible and her heart sank.

No one would see them.

The crisp night air at least offered some relief from her vertigo. Her head cleared just a little and her eyes scanned for inspiration. She knew she had to do something. Maybe she could knock something over, a table maybe, and knights would come check it out.

…But Jeritza would just whisk her away before they got there.

Blaise grit her teeth. They passed no one, student nor guard.

This was planned. Well planned.

Inside what she assumed must be his room, Jeritza grabbed a familiar helmet out of a drawer that Blaise just now realized matched the armor he was currently wearing.

Her heart skipped a beat.

He traded his sword for a glimmering scythe.

Her heart skipped another beat.

No…

Jeritza... or the Death Knight, shoved a bookshelf to the side with his foot to reveal a passageway. "Proceed," he ordered, his voice now hidden behind whatever magic lay within his mask.

The unnatural sound, the passage so dark and cold, the Death Knight with his scythe so threateningly close, it sent shivers down her spine.

She didn't want to go down into the dark.

This was wrong.

Weren't the Death Knight and the Flame Emperor allies? What had she done that the Flame Emperor would resort to such means against her? A cold and painful pit of betrayal settled in her chest even as she envisioned silver hair and lavender eyes.

No.

Something was very wrong.

The Death Knight nudged Blaise forward, and she stepped tentatively into the passageway. It had a downward slope, taking her deep beneath the monastery. The air was damp and earthy, suffocating even. The path was rocky and shifted under her feet so that Blaise nearly took a tumble on more than one occasion. The Death Knight's grip on her arm held her stable.

Blaise stopped abruptly when the passageway split, and the Death Knight guided her into the rightmost split. How would anyone ever find her down here? Thoughts of being trapped under the monastery with no one the wiser sent her into a panicked spiral. Her free hand snatched up to grip the Black Eagle Pendant around her neck, breaking the chain as she struggled against the Death Knight's hold.

Edelgard, Manuela, Father, Balen, Chevalier … someone, anyone, find her.

The Death Knight hit her again and Blaise collapsed to her knees, the pendant slipping from her fingers.

… Please.

Her last conscious thought was that maybe someone would find the pendant and, in turn, find her.

~FE~

She awoke to the sound of water dripping. A steady noise that normally would be soothing but, coupled with a pervading silence, was ominous in it's consistency. The next thing she noticed was the stone floor and the chill in her bones. It was… awfully cold. She scrabbled to sit up, forgetting the injury to her hand until white-hot pain reminded her, and she recoiled back to the floor.

Deep breaths, Blaise forced them through her lungs until the cloud of pain receded.

The silence was unsettling, she noted, unlike anything she had ever experienced before though she couldn't quite place her finger on what it was.

More careful not to jostle her hand this time, Blaise sat up.

And could hardly see anything.

The only light was distant, an odd glow from somewhere behind a wall that trickled out to her. It was barely enough to see her hand in front of her face in the back of the... room she found herself in.

She assumed she was in a room with at least the one wall highlighted by the light. It spilled through an opening that had Blaise on her feet.

A door?

Closing the distance with awkward, stumbling steps, Blaise inspected it. Cold metal fit snugly into the bearings on the top and bottom, spaced so close together, Blaise could barely fit her arm through. She couldn't see anything besides what appeared to be a hallway on the other side. Pushing the unusual door, it clattered but did not budge.

She spun, searching.

There. Another opening of some kind. It was higher up than she was tall, but not so high she couldn't drag herself up there.

A few minutes of maneuvering and her good hand clutched around the circular metal within the opening, allowing her to pull herself up onto the thin ledge.

The sight she now saw took her breath away.

Wherever she was towered over a darkened city, buildings of stone intertwined with rivers of shadowy purple light. Silhouettes of people walked up and down streets.

The name "Shambhala" flashed through her mind.

She certainly wasn't beneath the monastery anymore.

A clang of metal from the door made her jump, Blaise still clinging to the ledge but her head snapping around at the sound. Her eyes blinked at the purple light, bright in the pervasive darkness. The figure that held it stepped into the room, dragging a chair behind him. The door shuttered closed, the chair left in the middle. The figure, a man whose pale skin reflected the eerie purple glow of the light, moved closer still and grinned up at her. Shivers passed up and down her skin.

His words did more, piercing her heart as surely as a knife.

"Welcome home, Névé."

…

Welcome … home?

~FE~

Balen held Flayn, the girl unconscious. A cursory glance showed minor injuries, a few scrapes and bruises, but a deathly pale face. The other girl, carried by Raphael a few steps behind, appeared in similar condition.

_"The other girl … who is she?"_

Balen used to jerk at the unexpected voice in his head, but now he did not pause his stride.

Sothis had become as expected as the sun rising in the morn.

Still, if she wanted an answer, he did not give her one. He did not know.

Instead, he widened his strides so that Hilda and Lysithea were forced into a slight jog just to keep up.

_Huh, it's not like you to be worried_, Sothis teased. He could practically see the smile she would be giving him.

He ignored her.

They were coming up on the infirmary now.

Claude was the first person they came across, his House Leader on his way back to meet them. "You actually found Flayn?! Nice work!" Claude's eyes scanned over their group, smile fading.

Balen knew enough about him at this point to know that to be odd. Genuine or not, Claude rarely let the smile drop.

"It is a shame you could not be there, Claude..." Lorenz began.

"Professor!" The murmurings of his class cut off as Rhea swept toward him, her face taut with concern. "You have recovered Flayn… and another. Well done. You two-" she pointed to a couple of the knights at her heels. "… Take Flayn and her companion to the infirmary at once and send for Seteth," she ordered.

"Yes, Ma'am." Both knights saluted and moved to claim the girls.

Balen narrowed his eyes but acquiesced at Rhea's request.

Rhea's hands slipped into the sleeves of her gown, a sigh escaping her lips. "As for your sister, did you recover her?"

_Your sister?_

Balen blinked, only certain he had heard Rhea's question correctly by Sothis' parroted exclamation within his mind. What was this about Blaise?

Rhea's features grew more downcast at his silence. "I see. The Church will, of course, extend the search…"

Extend the search? What the hell was she talking about? Blaise was with the Black Eagles, wasn't she?

He turned on his heel, shocked gasps echoing from his students as Rhea called a soft, gentle "Balen" after him. He knew they followed him down the stairs, through the courtyard, to the Black Eagles classroom which he shoved open with such force the door slammed against the wall.

He didn't know why he used such force, but he didn't have it in himself to be sorry even though he shocked the students within.

"Professor Balen!"

That was Edelgard. He expected Blaise to be with her. She usually was.

The seats around the Black Eagle house leader were filled by her dark-haired vassal and the young songstress.

"Are you in need of something?" Edelgard inquired, now leaning forward.

Balen said nothing, his eyes continuing their scan of the students. The red-headed noble was saying something, the timid archer crouched at her desk with an open book over her head, the Brigidian was still as a statue, the healer blinked sleep from his eyes, the enthusiastic axe-wielder twirled his weapon haphazardly in his hand.

But no Blaise.

And she hadn't been in the meeting that morning.

For the first time, Balen felt his blood turn to ice.

_Her room. Perhaps she is in her room._

Yes… her room.

Balen pushed his way through his students crowded behind him without a word, only vaguely aware of their whispering.

Blaise had to be in her room.

_A/N:_

_Does anyone know how Manuela got Jeritza's mask and why that made her suspicious? I've never really figured that out..._

_What exactly happened here is meant to be left out but will be explained in the next chapter if you can't guess it. That leads me to the announcement of Balen's POV chapters finally arriving. I like to think of them as "Special Editions" because it's not a permanent switch but an opportunity to play with another perspective. I'm guessing three chapters but you all probably know by now that could be more or less._

_What is going on with Blaise during this time will also be addressed later only in pieces instead of a moment to moment as it has been up until this point._

_Originally, this chapter was nothing but angst. I changed the middle scenes with Edelgard, to be a bit fluffier and allowing Blaise to realize she was happy... right before I ruined it. Not sure it reads quite as well as my original script but I think, considering the direction of the story as a whole, it was the right move and probably just needs some more extensive editing at a later time._


	17. Chapter 16

_One step, two steps, three steps..._

Balen's even footfalls as he followed the cobblestone path to the second-floor dormitories belied the strange flickers within his chest. Turning the corner for the stairs, he caught a glimpse of Leonie on his heels, the only student to have matched his pace. Claude, the only other he thought could have managed, had waited behind at the Black Eagles classroom.

That was fine. Let him explain it to those students.

_Another step, another, and another…_

His stride changed not on the stairs either nor when the floor leveled on the upper dormitories.

The consistent sound lulled and betrayed, his worries within snuffed out like a flame without oxygen.

"Captain Jeralt!" Leonie called and Balen almost broke his stride as his student rushed past him at the sight of his father outside of Blaise's door.

His father, usually aware to a fault and nearly as unshakeable as Balen, winced, yet did not tear his gaze from the doorway to acknowledge his apprentice. An action Balen was certain to hear no end of from Leonie once all of this was sorted out.

_Balen, you should consider... there are many knights here._

Yes, he saw that, thank you, Sothis.

Alois, Shamir, Catherine. Every single one of them paced outside the room. From the other end, Balen caught a glimpse of Rhea approaching with her own battalion.

He was already halfway through the door before anyone seemed to notice or at least bothered to acknowledge him.

"Kid…"

His father's voice was thick with... something. Balen had never quite heard it sound that way before. The closest he could recall was when Jeralt had returned from a job to find Balen and Blaise had been forced to turn their daggers on a man with a crude scar along his face. Blaise had been strange after the event.

But this was worse.

More raw.

Balen halted just inside the room, eyes scouring every corner.

The bed was wrinkled, Blaise's notebook open upon the mattress. Her sword lay on the floor at the far end of the room with it's sheath on the complete opposite side. The lantern, though full with oil, was off. Drops of blood were scattered, mainly in the vicinity of her sword.

Someone ran in behind him and he caught a glimpse of silver and red from the corner of his eye before they passed in front of him. Edelgard stopped abruptly several steps ahead, her entire form freezing with tension.

For once, he felt he understood that reaction.

"Manuela claims she thought Blaise had skipped out on the meeting and didn't want to bring attention to her absence. She went to check on her before searching for Flayn, but found this mess and Jeritza's mask on the floor near her sword. She went to confront him on her own," Catherine's voice carried through the doorway.

"Thank you, Catherine. Shamir, is there any word from the guards on last night's patrol?" Rhea asked.

"They heard some noise shortly after midnight in this vicinity, but it stopped before they could determine where it came from. As for the room, they said it was quiet when they walked by and the light was out," Shamir stated.

"She was likely incapacitated by that point. The girl would be an easy target being unable to call for help," Catherine followed. There was a brief pause and a click of her tongue. "Didn't appear she put up much of a fight."

Balen clenched his hands into fists, barely cocking his head to glare over his shoulder at the group gathered outside the room.

Blaise was not an easy target. She was not some naïve and helpless girl. She'd put up a fight, damn it. She had to have been surprised. Jeritza was supposed to be an ally and she didn't know... no one except Rhea and Seteth had known Flayn was missing. They weren't informed until this morning at the meeting... that Blaise hadn't shown up to.

_I wonder who was sent to inform your sister of the meeting. It is odd they did not say they could not find her to deliver the message when she has been missing since last night, is it not?_

Odd was one word for it. Suspicious was another_._

"Who was supposed to tell her of the meeting?" Balen repeated Sothis' musing.

Heads turned to look at him, unusual expressions upon their faces. He didn't care what that meant.

He just wanted to know where his sister was.

If the messenger had said something maybe he would have known to look for her. The thought that she had been down there and he had missed her because someone didn't think it necessary to mention her absence...

Damn. If Manuela hadn't made it sound as if Blaise was with the Black Eagles maybe he could have...

_Do not allow your mind to wander to what ifs, Balen. We must unravel this mystery and quickly if we are to find your sister._

"Alois, find which messenger was sent to inform Blaise of this morning's meeting and hold them in the Audience Chamber until I may speak with them," Rhea ordered.

"Of course, Lady Rhea," Alois assured her, saluting, albeit in a subdued manner, before he cast one concerned look at Jeralt, "Hang in there, Captain," he wished, clapping him on the shoulder and trudging off presumably to the Knight's Hall.

Jeralt did nothing more than grunt some half-hearted excuse for acknowledgement.

A heavy silence fell as if everyone was holding their breath at the same time.

Balen turned his thoughts inward.

He could undo time. Search for her, do something to prevent their enemies escaping, find answers, maybe stop the entire kidnapping from occurring at all. Yes. That was what he would do. He searched out that thread deep within. He reached as far back as he could until he could no longer see.

He grasped at the unknown.

_Wait!_

And he pulled.

All at once flashes of the recent past rushed behind his eyelids: Flayn and the other girl on stone floors, the Death Knight swinging his scythe upon him, the passage behind the bookshelf, Manuela in a pool of blood…

"What? Flayn is missing?!"

The world steadied around Hilda's exclamation, Balen grounded back into reality by her shrill cry. He grit his teeth. This wasn't far back enough. This wasn't even before the meeting Rhea had called.

"So finding Flayn is our immediate priority, I take it?" Claude guessed.

Balen heard the slight swish of his uniform as he turned to face him.

…

"Teach?"

Balen reached within again. Deeper. Deeper.

But the threads of time slipped between his fingers.

_There is a limit as to what I can undo. You know this._

Yes he knew it, but this wasn't good enough. He just needed to go back a little bit farther.

He found something substantial and pulled again.

"What? Flayn is missing?!"

And again.

"What? Flayn is-"

Again.

"What –"

Goddess, Hilda. Stop pulling him out of the rewind of time.

_Stop it! Stop it this instant!_

Balen ground his teeth this time and paused his attempts, Hilda's voice now sending a sharp pain through his head.

"What? Flayn is missing?!"

"So finding Flayn is our immediate priority, I take it."

_Would you stop to think for two seconds, you fool?!_

No.

Balen pushed between Lysithea and Leonie and was out the door before Sothis had finished her complaint, a call of "Teach?" following him from behind.

Blaise's room was as he had seen it before except with the obvious absence of the knights and Rhea congregating outside. He saw no sign of Jeritza's mask either.

Too late, in other words.

"What happened here?" Claude's question nearly made Balen jump. Of course he had followed.

"If I may be so bold as to offer a conjecture, I would say there was a fight," Lorenz stated as he joined them inside the room with Leonie right behind him.

The orange–haired girl circled the room. "Isn't this Blaise's room?"

All three looked at him.

_See what you have done? Now they are suspicious and you accomplished nothing. _

Okay, fine. So he couldn't stop Blaise's capture, but the next best thing was rescue her in addition to Flayn.

He reset time as far as it would let him, finding himself back among the majority of his students in the Golden Deer classroom as Hilda exclaimed once again at Flayn's disappearance. He let the conversation continue naturally... or as naturally as it could with Sothis berating him nonstop on the concept of patience.

When Ignatz ran in, claiming to have heard a scream from Jeritza's room, Balen mobilized his students faster than ever. Beneath the monastery, he took them through agonizingly slow, his eyes peeled for any sign of his sister.

He found nothing.

Perhaps she was never down here?

The Flame Emperor and the Death Knight disappeared with Flayn in tow and Balen reset time again.

This time he ordered Raphael to help Manuela to the infirmary, banking on Claude to help him capture one of their enemies.

Balen would take information if that was the best he could get.

They barreled through, hoping to overwhelm them quickly.

Yet their enemies evaded.

The Death Knight and Flame Emperor were powerful enough to overwhelm almost all of his students and they slipped through traps like sand through fingers.

He learned nothing from any outcome and Sothis had reached her limits.

"Jeralt..." Rhea whispered, her voice soft and soothing. Her hand rested upon his father's arm as they stood outside Blaise's room for what felt to Balen as if it was the fiftieth time.

The three of them plus Leonie were the only ones left outside the room. Edelgard hovered inside. Balen suspected Claude had told her again and could now see her frozen within.

His father, eyes lost in the depths of the room, responded by shaking his arm free of Rhea and running a weathered hand over his face before finally speaking. He sounded as tired as Balen felt defeated. "I will be leading a group to search for my daughter beneath the monastery..." he turned to face Balen, "... your lead brat said the entrance Jeritza used was behind the bookshelf in his room."

Balen wanted to say he'd done that already... multiple times.

Instead, he nodded.

"I will be in your group, Captain," Leonie offered immediately and to no one's surprise. "I know where the entrance is."

Balen knew from his father's silence he was going to object before he uttered a simple "Stay with Balen, Leonie." He didn't look at her as he said it but turned.

His father was halfway out of sight when another voice spoke out behind him, calm and collected. "Sir Jeralt!"

Balen blinked, turning to find Edelgard with Blaise's notebook in hand. He could see a drawing of a flower on the open page as the Black Eagle house leader swept past him and the others in the corridor to follow in Jeralt's wake.

This hadn't happened before.

_That is because you kept resetting before now._

He could tell Sothis was irritated behind the resulting yawn.

His father paused at Edelgard's call, only twisting around just enough to consider her over his shoulder.

"The Black Eagles will accompany you."

A bold statement.

Edelgard stopped her approach less than five feet away from him, her chin raised and stance even and challenging. She made it clear it was not a request.

Certainly such meant little to Jeralt. He had enough respect and Rhea's support to answer to no one should he not wish it. Even the future leader of the Empire. Still, Jeralt and Edelgard stared at each other in silence, Balen titling his head thoughtfully when it became clear his father wasn't immediately turning her down as he had Leonie but searching the young woman's face for some answer.

He must have found it because, eventually, Jeralt nodded. "Gear up, Kid. I'll be in the Knight's Hall," he agreed.

Edelgard said nothing more, only bowing in respect, and spinning on her heel to take the opposite direction as Jeralt to grab her classmates. She passed Balen, Rhea, and Leonie without a word, face set in stone and red half-cape flying behind her.

_My. Even upset that girl knows how to command a room. I see why your sister is drawn to her so._

Balen didn't. Edelgard always seemed to be scrutinizing, calculating... expectant. He wasn't sure how Blaise could stand being challenged every step of every day around her.

Sothis giggled.

_Never mind the arrogant one. You will also be taking your little ones to search further, yes? Go on then, move._

They were going to do it her way this time… with patience. Search out the mystery, stitch together the pieces, find the leads.

Such was infuriatingly slow, but his options had grown quite limited.

Balen bowed to Rhea though he could not tell if she was seeing anything beyond her own thoughts. He hadn't the time to consider her, however, and grabbed a disgruntled Leonie by the arm and proceeded to pull her with him. He stopped quite suddenly at the sight at the end of the hall.

His students, Claude at the front, Hilda at his shoulder, and the rest fanned out behind them, waited with weapons in hand.

"We're going to find your sister, yeah, Teach? Well, the Golden Deer are ready when you are." Claude smiled, pulling his bow out and over his shoulder with a flourish.

Balen didn't have a name for the resulting emotion. Was it pride? Gratuity?

He hadn't gathered them together this time and yet here they were.

He nodded. "Let's go."

"Balen, a moment, please," Rhea's voice made him pause mid step and he turned to look upon her. She drew close, her words softening ever more. "I have faith you will set this right but remain cautious. There is still much we do not know and your sister… she is..."

She is…?

Balen blinked, waiting on her to finish whatever it was she was trying to say.

But Rhea only hummed and shook her head. "Bring her home and we will learn the truth of this matter."

Balen said nothing.

He would bring her home. He would fix this one way or another.

It just wouldn't be as soon as he wanted as that first day passed without finding Blaise despite his students and him searching until the next morning light had risen in the sky. The most they had learned was she had been taken beneath the monastery at one point as evidenced by the Black Eagle pendant Hilda had happened to see glint in the torchlight on their way out of the underground chambers of Garreg Mach.

Renewed with some sense of hope because that had to mean something, Balen dismissed his students to rest and sought out Rhea, the pendant clasped in his fist.

The archbishop allowed him every resource he desired and Balen jumped on the next patrol with Catherine and Shamir. They combed every inch of the underground, Shamir unsetting ancient traps and opening hidden doors that most anyone else would have missed. Catherine led them along with a map Rhea had dug out of some dusty book in the library.

Balen was certain they searched every crevice.

But he still returned above without another trace of his sister.

Balen was not the sentimental sort. He cared not for trinkets and even much of his life was washed with gray or hidden in fog. There was nothing to miss, nothing worth holding on to.

Blaise was an exception.

Had been the only exception for almost the entirety of his life.

Of course he knew Blaise wasn't normal in the way most people considered normal, but she was as normal as he had known.

He remembered traveling through a village several years back and watching as Blaise was enraptured by the women standing outside the local clothing shop. Balen had thought their clothing impractical. Bright colors made of ungiving material and full of frills that would snag on branches. Their shoes would have soaked with water in minutes if they weren't lost in mud beforehand.

Still, Blaise had wanted to go inside, had wanted to wear something like the others.

So he went with her as he was oft to do.

She'd bounced up and down the aisles of more clothing than Balen had even knew existed. He reminded her when something was outrageously impractical and eventually she'd settled on the black, knit stockings.

They were sturdy, easily patchable, and wouldn't limit her movements in battle.

She'd bought them with money she'd earned from the jobs they performed.

The women stopped conversing as she left with Balen in her wake. They pointed, smiled, and giggled but, if Blaise noticed, she didn't care. Their father had raised an eyebrow when they rejoined the other mercenaries, but he said nothing about it directly.

Blaise had been pleased with herself.

So, when Hilda had insisted on doing something similar (though she didn't buy knit stockings), he understood why.

He knew what it meant to protect his students because he'd seen Blaise dive into his enemies more times than he could count. He'd seen her cross battlefields and leave paths of dead behind her just to get to him. He'd seen her stab enemies in the back with her sword or dagger, set loose wyverns as distractions, and beat full grown men twice her size with only her fists as weapons.

But she'd also taught him tears and smiles, anger and fear, hugs and high-fives. He knew what they meant.

He'd learned Blaise was exceptional at just "being there" and sought to provide such for his students.

He knew Blaise wasn't social like Hilda or studious like Lysithea. She wasn't devout like Marianne nor as forward as Leonie. She couldn't speak like others.

But she was the color in his gray world.

Even here, where the gray has slowly lessened, with his students, with the Church, with Rhea, Blaise was where it had started and how he even knew what color was.

Goddess knew Balen didn't always understand her.

Especially since coming to Garreg Mach.

He didn't know why she couldn't get along with Rhea, why she was especially spontaneous, why he saw her dance around the Imperial princess seemingly avoiding her as much as she gravitated toward her.

He couldn't understand why she'd not wanted to be called a knight. Knights protected people. They were honest and true, dedicating their lives to helping others. It was meant to be a compliment... she was every bit of a knight to him.

He didn't know why she was antagonistic to the Church. Didn't she see the help the Church provided? Didn't she realize no one else would offer refuge to the many people who traveled to the monastery having lost everything to one tragic circumstance to another?

Didn't she see how many people found hope within the love of the Goddess? Found color to their gray world?

How was it she could think so little of faith when she had made it so easy for him to have it?

…

The messenger who had been sent to request Blaise's presence at the meeting had been found dead, his skin gray and brittle, lips a touch blue. His life had seemingly been drained by some kind of magic Balen was not familiar with, and his body tucked into an alcove a corridor over from Blaise's room.

Balen jumped on the next patrol and the one after that and then he led the next. In the few spare moments he found, he would look up at the sky and search out the Blue Sea Star. He promised the Goddess as he promised Rhea he would bring her back.

Selfish thoughts, darker thoughts invaded his mind in other moments.

... The messenger hadn't been killed by scythe or sword or axe after all.

Which meant there was another enemy within the walls of Garreg Mach.

He was sure of it.

And he would destroy anyone who would stand between them.

~FE~

A few days passed and Rhea was growing concerned as he continued joining any and every kind of patrol available. A week passed and Claude expressed his classmates' worries to which he assured him he was fine. A week and a half passed and his father cornered him and sat him down in the dining hall to eat. At two weeks, Rhea ordered him to desist for the day, her words making it clear it wasn't an option nor was it open for debate.

So he reluctantly retreated to the Golden Deer classroom.

Balen held the pendant in his hand, passing time by idly rolling it between his fingers and watching as the light scattered onto the stone walls of the empty classroom.

Classes had been cancelled until further notice but he didn't care. He found the empty classroom more comfortable than his room.

He wasn't tired.

He supposed he knew he should be tired with how he had barely paused to even breathe. He supposed he couldn't blame anyone for questioning his stamina… but he wasn't tired, legitimately. Energy flowed through his veins as surely as blood, far-reaching and continuous. The difference now was he had nowhere to put it.

_They were right to give you a break. You may not feel tired but rest is a necessity, even for you. It will do your sister no good for you to fall out._

Balen said nothing, spinning the pendant between another finger.

Sothis sat upon the edge of his desk, the green-haired girl watching him with her chin resting in one hand.

Balen didn't think she had looked anywhere else since she'd materialized.

_Well, what say you? Are you really going to waste the day? Do you not want to be ready the next?_

He spun the pendant again, his eyes flickering to stare over Sothis'shoulder so as not to acknowledge her inward smoldering. He knew it well enough without seeing it anyway. It was several minutes before he spoke. "There will be no more patrols. You know this."

They had begun to wane only days in. First it was less people on the assignment then less frequency.

Rhea was overall supportive of his continued search, but he knew she was returning focus to the Western Church.

Which … he understood was just as likely to bring a lead to Blaise as any patrolling around the monastery. The Death Knight was a known conspirator with them and it could be inferred the Flame Emperor was too due to their apparent association…

But it still felt of giving up.

Sothis huffed, Balen catching a glimpse of a dramatic head shake.

_They weren't working anyway. We must change tactics._

The door to the classroom opened before he could respond, the hinges creaking as a sliver of light stretched across the room until it settled upon Balen. He missed the pendant this time when he spun it in his hand, the object clanging with surprising force against the desk.

"Teach."

"Claude." Balen nodded while Sothis plopped her head down on her arm to wait out the conversation that was no doubt about to take place.

Claude crossed the room in silence, making a show of inspecting the room before he dragged a seat across from Balen. He dropped into the chair and kicked his legs up to rest on the desk.

_Hey!,_ Sothis yelped as his feet swept through her, the green-haired girl floating off to Balen's other side and glaring with her arms crossed indignantly.

Balen thought he might have felt his lips twitch at what he could only attribute to such a sight.

"Nice place you got here," Claude offered with exaggerated seriousness.

Balen waited. He had more to say than that or he wouldn't be here.

Sure enough, few minutes passed before his house leader spoke again. "The Archbishop postponed the Battle of the Eagle and Lion today."

Postponed the Battle of the Eagle and Lion? That was not a move Rhea would make lightly. From what he understood, the battle was a tradition... An important tradition for the Officer's Academy.

"And I hear the princess and her vassal are withdrawing from the Academy."

That was enough for even Balen to focus in on despite everything. He shifted in his seat. "Edelgard and Hubert?" he asked.

Claude nodded, no hint of his usual mirth upon his features. "She says her father is ailing," he explained.

"You do not think he is?" Balen guessed.

"It's quite common knowledge the Emperor's health has been deteriorating for many months. For Princess, it has always been a matter of time. My guess, however…" Claude paused to pick up the Black Eagle pendant, inspecting it as if it held some hidden message, "… is on that she believes she would stand a better chance of locating Blaise with the Empire's resources at hand than here."

Balen's brow furrowed.

Why would Edelgard bother so much with Blaise? She wasn't her sister and mobilizing an entire country's resources for her was... surprising.

Sothis snorted in his ear.

He did what he did best and ignored her.

"It seems with the Black Eagles down their professor, back-up professor, house leader, and tactician, the Archbishop has decided to postpone the Battle of the Eagle and Lion until Manuela has recovered enough to participate," Claude finished.

"I wouldn't participate," Balen stated, swiping the pendant back from Claude and slipping it in his pocket.

Not right now. Not with his sister missing so.

"She likely knew that as well and that the Golden Deer would follow," he admitted. Claude stretched his arms behind his head, eyes raised to the ceiling. "So the question is, what is our next move, Teach?"

Changing tactics is what Sothis had said.

_What was that place she spoke of wanting to go not long in the past? _

Sothis snapped her fingers before he could contemplate her question.

_That's it! Zanado._

"The Red Canyon?" Balen mused.

He sat up a little straighter.

She said she'd dreamed of the place and had insisted Chevalier was there though she'd told him she hadn't seen her. Maybe there was something to be learned that could point them in some direction. He would take anything now the trail was as cold as it was.

"The Red Canyon?" Claude repeated, eyebrow raised. "Are you feeling okay, Teach?"

_Quickly, change the subject. _

That wasn't so easy, Sothis…

Nothing came to his mind and his companion groaned dramatically.

_Honestly, you are worse than a child. You're going to reconvene with your father. Yes, try that._

"I am going to reconvene with my father," Balen parroted.

Claude's eyebrows hit his hairline before he let out a laugh and kicked his chair back on two legs. "Whatever you say. Just, uh, don't do anything too crazy, yeah? I'll see what else I can dig up in the meantime," he offered.

A nod. Balen sat unmoving for another minute until he quite suddenly had the idea he should go find his father. "I'll... see you later."

Claude had that expression again, the smile that didn't reach his eyes. Guarded curiosity. "Later," he agreed.

Balen knew he would have to find out what that meant in this context… But later.

Soon, he told himself.

For now, he had a father to track down.

It took him until the sun was beginning to set to find said father.

Jeralt hadn't been in the Captain's Quarters, the training grounds, the Knights' Hall, the stables, the fishing pond, he wasn't on patrol…

Balen had about run out of ideas when he finally came across Catherine who told him his father was at the graveyard. Balen hadn't known Garreg Mach had a graveyard much less why his father would be there, but it was easy enough to find via Seteth's directions.

He didn't know what he expected to see, but he thought graveyards were meant to be dark and somber.

This place was not.

It exuded peace, the gravestones overlooking a valley of green with mountains in the distance. The setting sun washed it all in a sea of pinks and purples that would have made Ignatz jealous. The first stars were just beginning to shine as the purple gave way to the navy blue of the night.

His father stood at the end of a row, eyes downcast upon a white, stone plate.

Balen approached in his usual silence, noting a bouquet of flowers in Jeralt's right hand. Balen's eyes scanned the tombstone but found no name, only weathered markings where something had once been written.

"Your mother is buried here."

His mother?

Balen jerked his eyes back down to the nondescript grave.

"She was fond of iris flowers, but it seems Blaise has been growing carnations..." Jeralt lifted the bouquet of delicate flowers. Most of them were red but there were a few other colors. White, yellow, blue. "… Honestly didn't know she was keeping up with the gardening."

He thought he recalled seeing Blaise give Professor Manuela a rose once after the physician had yet another rough night, and Hilda had said Edelgard kept a red flower in her room. She hadn't been able to say exactly where Edelgard had gotten it, but she had seen Blaise stop by the room before it appeared.

He was quite sure Hilda's guess was correct.

"She gives them to people," Balen stated.

And the people smile.

Manuela's smile had been bright enough to rival the sun, and he had only seen Edelgard smile around Blaise.

Jeralt huffed something between a sigh and a laugh. "She would do that."

Balen's gaze shifted back to the tombstone and had the thought that maybe his mother could use a smile. Blaise would definitely give her one if she was here. He reached out, plucking a yellow one from the bunch of which he laid upon the stone. "She won't mind it's a carnation."

"No," Jeralt agreed. Slowly, he knelt upon the earth where he paused and spread the myriad of flowers out along the grave. "Sitri..." his voice was a whisper Balen had to strain to hear. "... Watch over her for me until I can bring her home."

A brush of wind that rustled the leaves of the carnations was the only response, yet Balen was certain his mother heard the plea, that, wherever she was, she was watching Blaise.

His father clapped him on the shoulder as he brushed by in the direction of Garreg Mach's central, leaving Balen on his own at the foot of his mother's grave.

Contemplating, eyes glued to the flowers at his feet.

He was semi-conscious of Sothis floating at his shoulder.

"Let's go." He said it aloud, the words sounding strange in the open air with no one to hear.

No one except Sothis, who shifted in the air with a small smile upon her features. It somehow came across simultaneously teasing and melancholic.

_My ,my, in such a hurry… but you are right. As the saying goes, there is no time like the present. Zanado brought back fragments of my memory as well, and I know that is no coincidence. There is something to be found within the canyon. _

Something to be found…

Balen slipped a hand into the pocket of his cloak and found the cool metal of Blaise's Black Eagle pendant.

He just hoped it was the right something to be found.

~FE~

Balen hadn't thought much on Zanado when he was last here. There were bandits, he had students to watch out for, and Blaise had declined his offer to come with him. He'd had no real reason to set foot inside the ruins with the bandits on the outskirts. They'd handled the situation and left as quickly as they'd come.

Tonight he went past the bandit's former encampment, Sothis floating and spinning in every direction with eyes as wide as the moon.

He wasn't sure why.

Zanado was, put simply, a ruin.

The buildings showed distinct cracks, some falling in upon themselves. The path he walked upon was uneven and caught the toe of his boots with each step. It was seemingly empty of all life and there was a pervasive veil of fog. His skin prickled. If he wasn't mistaken, he swore even the Sword of the Creator hummed with an uncomfortable energy.

He kept his hand on his weapon, it's red light cutting through the fog as surely as a blade through flesh.

Zanado, the Red Canyon.

Claude had been right all those months ago. There wasn't anything red as far as he could see.

Only broken white rock.

Balen wasn't impressed. This was a waste of time. His sister may have stopped by once for Chevalier, but she certainly wouldn't have returned. There was, quite literally, nothing here worth seeing.

Sothis, for whatever reason, seemed to disagree. Her thoughts shifted a mile a minute so he caught nothing but a raging curiosity from his companion. She passed him as if in a trance, and he followed. They were already here anyways.

She floated straight down the pathway, eyes now fixated ahead upon a more architecturally extravagant building at the very edge.

_Yes… It is all coming back to me. This structure..._

Balen tilted his head as they came into a better view of said building. It reminded him of Garreg Mach a bit in it's design. He supposed it probably would have been similarly handsome in it's prime.

_Oh but it's as though my memories are clouded. The most important pieces are obscured. But I once called this place home. I have no doubt._

Sothis floated past a series of former statues, drawn ever closer to this ruined building.

Balen was primed to follow when the shadow of another appeared approaching them from the direction they had been headed.

He stopped.

Sothis, too, froze in place and, though he couldn't see her face, he knew something was wrong.

_Balen, it's him._

Him?

Balen didn't know exactly who she was speaking of, but the tremor of her voice was enough for him to unsheathe the Sword of the Creator in a flurry of red. His eyes narrowed as the person's features began to take shape from amongst the fog.

"I must admit, I was not expecting to see you so soon after our last encounter." The words warbled to him, distorted by more than distance and fog.

The Flame Emperor's armored boot narrowly missed Sothis, the distinct clap of thick metal against stone reverberating through the tense air. The red and white mask was fixed solely on Balen as the warrior's hand, also armored with a heavy gauntlet as dark as the night around them, reached up to the shaft of his great axe. There was a click and the weapon fell from its confines against his back plate, cutting through air to rest upon his shoulder.

"More of a surprise is your presence here. Tell me, is the Archbishop so assured in Garreg Mach's safety she sends the Academy's professors out searching for snakes?"

It was a taunt if Balen had ever heard one.

He grimaced.

First this warrior took his sister and now he was insulting Rhea?

That was fine. Let him do as he pleased for now. He wouldn't have that privilege much longer if Balen had anything to say about it.

"I will hunt down the snakes inside," Balen growled as he lowered his stance, Sword of the Creator humming in time with his breaths. Calm and collected. "But you first." The words hadn't left his mouth before he snapped his wrist, disconnecting his blade into it's more flexible form which he sent barreling toward the Flame Emperor.

He knew something was wrong when his opponent made no attempt to block the attack. Hell, the Flame Emperor didn't even move.

Realization occurred to him quite suddenly when a subtle light flashed in the dark, a tremor of energy bolting like lightning between the remains of the statues the Flame Emperor stood within. The blade that was his weapon recoiled and swung harmlessly to the left. Another twist of his wrist and the wayward blade was snapped back into place before him.

How cowardly… Hiding behind magical barriers.

Sweeping the Sword of the Creator through the air, he prepared a charge. "Where is my sister?" he questioned.

_Balen!_

Too late, he felt the cold tip of a sword upon the back of his neck.

He froze, his body as tense as the atmosphere around him.

His mind went through a series of curses. How had someone gotten around behind him? He couldn't recall even Blaise being able to sneak up on him in such a way before.

He twisted the Sword of the Creator in his hand, turning his head just enough to try and catch a glimpse of the person behind him to no avail. Sothis was notably staring at the mystery arrival with her mouth open in a slight "O," numerous emotions of which he didn't know flitting across her face.

The Flame Emperor shifted his stance, allowing his axe to rest more lazily upon his shoulder as he stepped out from behind the statues now that Balen was even less a threat. "I had no part in the kidnapping of Blaise Eisner…" he stated.

Balen grit his teeth until they ground.

What a lie. How many vivid memories did he have of the warrior warping in at the end of the battle against the Death Knight? He should have killed him before allowing him to escape. He didn't know how he hadn't, how the Flame Emperor had managed to slip through his fingers.

"... I would be willing to ally with you against those who did."

Ally?

The offer was a shock to his system, unexpected in every way. Suspicious.

"Why?"

"I have my reasons just as you have yours."

He couldn't deny the offer was, at the very least, intriguing. What was the Flame Emperor playing at? Still, he wasn't born yesterday. One didn't just up and ally with someone they knew nothing of, especially if what you did know, you didn't like.

He also still had a sword to his neck… He would die before joining someone under duress.

"Where is she?" he repeated his question.

Just maybe, if the Flame Emperor gave him an answer, he would let him walk away this one time.

The Flame Emperor didn't reply except to scoff behind his mask. "I can see your anger, your hatred. This is a waste of time..." he turned away, waving a hand absently. "...It is a pity. I hope your sister is not the one who pays the price."

Balen was shoved around, his feet slipping on the cracked stone as he was released in the opposite direction.

"Leave this place, Sothis-blessed."

Sothis-blessed?

Balen fought the urge to look at his green-haired companion in favor of this new voice. A woman.

He couldn't help but stare when he saw her. Hair and eyes that looked as much like Sothis' as Rhea's, silver armor, a bejeweled and slender sword. Her face was drawn and tired, brow furrowed, eyes dark.

But what he really was looking at was her breastplate and the Crest etched within.

He didn't notice Sothis had approached them until she spoke within the confines of his mind.

_"Who might you be, young one?" I asked her that once._

Sothis was mere feet from the woman, green eyes fixated on green eyes though one pair seemed completely unaware of the other's presence. She stood before her, head raised due to the woman's taller stature. It made her words odd. Clearly, Sothis was the young one of the two.

Needing, aching… desiring, Sothis drank in the woman's visage with more fervor than Balen had ever seen.

She hadn't even looked at Rhea quite that way.

_"Névé," she told me._

If Balen was more expressive, he'd surely have looked concerned. This was Chevalier as Blaise had described once upon a time. He knew no "Névé."

_Chevalier_… _Yes, I gave her that name_.

He blinked. That was definitely a mystery for Sothis to figure out.

Something else stood out to him.

His eyes shifted from Chevalier to the Flame Emperor and back again.

"You tricked her." His voice sounded odd to his own ears.

Chevalier regarded him, eyes flashing with something, but it was the Flame Emperor who replied. "Do not presume to understand that which you have no knowledge of."

But what else could it have been? Blaise had been drawn by Chevalier and taken by the Flame Emperor... to see them now together. It made no other sense.

The why continued to elude him, but it mattered not in this moment.

He drew on the Sword of the Creator. He would not leave without answers.

Chevalier's features twisted, her body pulling taut as a bowstring, lips curling. Her eyes rested upon Balen with disdain. "Your presence defiles the memories here. Leave this place at once," she ordered. It appeared to take exceptional self-control for her to turn on her heel with a final scathing look over her shoulder.

_Let us depart at once. There is nothing more to find here._

He shook his head. He'd be damned if he made the same mistake twice.

Balen snapped the Sword of the Creator out in a wide overhang, aiming directly at the Flame Emperor. He thought he had him. The Flame Emperor was no longer hidden behind magical barriers and he surely wasn't expecting the attack.

But the Flame Emperor was gone, dematerialized with a flash of light.

He didn't let that deter him because there was still Chevalier. He was already halfway to her, charging with his sword before him.

He didn't notice she'd passed the statues until he was thrown back and, even if he had noticed, he wouldn't have expected to be physically unable to pass. Sure, there was magic that could inhibit damage but to block an actual person entirely?

Balen rolled with the impact, his feet kicking up dust as he slid to a stop upon the stone.

_Fool! What are you trying to accomplish?!_

He'd have argued with her except for his surprise to see Chevalier's expression had changed. He thought maybe he had hurt her somehow with how she seemed to deflate, but he certainly hadn't hit her. She stared at him, and it was such a strange look. It… was similar to how Sothis had looked upon her. Eerily so.

"So that is how it is…" her voice was a whisper that carried to him upon the wind. "… Then so be it." Chevalier bowed low, her braided hair sweeping the stone path.

Before he could wonder what that was about a guttural roar shook the valley, a cry of which transported him back to Conand Tower. Balen spun to face the mouth of the Red Canyon as it was now overtaken by the shape of a Black Beast outlined by the faint light of the moon. Howls echoed in every direction as dark shapes filled the sky, the canyon suddenly alive in the night.

He chanced a glance at Chevalier only to see the woman in question once again standing tall in the starlight but enveloped by red, the rich light seemingly becoming one with her in extravagant designs upon her unblemished skin. Her hair washed out with silver as dust kicked up in all directions by a sudden gale of wind. Her eyes cut through the dark, now the color of molten iron as they stared upon him.

"Forgive me, my Goddess… Only the cursed are welcome in Zanado any longer."

Chevalier raised one hand out before her.

Balen would have pondered that as well except giant wolves suddenly sprung upon him from the surrounding shadows, jaws snapping and salivating, eyes gleaming blood red against the night sky. He searched for the threads of time but found nothing.

How could there be nothing?

_Quickly! We have no choice but to fight our way out!_

Balen didn't hesitate but swung his sword in a wide arc, deterring the wolves from utterly surrounding him.

"Remove the Sothis-blessed," Chevalier's words seemed to echo in the canyon as surely as the wolves deep growls.

A flapping of wings followed and the light of the moon was blotted out.

He had a passing thought that Chevalier was controlling the monsters in some way, but, at a loss as to how to get to her behind the statues, he opted on Sothis' plan.

To fight his way out.

Balen slashed his sword into a wolf's foreleg, dodging around and breaking into a run down the ruined path.

_We need a defensible position._

Balen was afraid they would need much more than that.

_Do not think that way! If it wasn't for your own foolish ..._

"Teach!"

An arrow shooting through Sothis and into the wing of a giant bird cut off his companion's complaint with a yelp of surprise. She spewed words in a language he didn't know, but he got the gist she was cursing. By the contrary, he felt a smile pull at his lips as he shifted his direction, feet barely touching the ground as he skidded along.

It wasn't a happy smile as there really wasn't much to be happy about, but his students were just what they needed to get out of this.

Chevalier and the Flame Emperor would come next.

_A/N:_

_So we took a bit of a step back here in the beginning to reorient but we're moving forward again by the end._

_Blaise and Balen have both met the Flame Emperor and Chevalier in Zanado with two very different outcomes and just what is going on between Balen's two "enemies" anyways?_

_I, personally, liked how Blaise and the Flame Emperor were very easy allies but the same kind of approach had zero affect on Balen._

_Next chapter will have the promised Golden Deer class and probably Rhea conversation and something else I'm not 100% sure on yet. Anyways, we'll soon be back with Blaise so if you have something you specifically want to see with Balen now is the time to communicate it!_

_As always, thank you everyone and I am always appreciative of reviews and/or PM._


	18. Chapter 17

Broken rock rolled beneath his feet, Balen never gaining as much traction as he normally desired. For once, that may have been a blessing as a slight downward slope within the valley propelled him forward just out of reach of the giant wolves and their snapping jaws.

The air was ripe with twang after twang of bowstrings and howls and screeches as arrows pierced the flesh in the monsters behind him. He, himself, felt more than his fair share of the projectiles flying past him with miraculous accuracy.

A giant eagle fell from the sky behind him, shaking the ground as it's form crashed into stone.

Balen felt more than saw the distance grow between him and some of his pursuers, likely hindered by the eagle's collapse in their direct path.

He was close enough to make out the shapes of his students now, dark shadows against a slightly lighter sky. They had taken a defensive position on a slope leading into a cliff face which Balen silently applauded. The slope could be defended by minimal front fighters while the cliffs offered numerous advantages to the archers.

Claude always did have a knack for tactics.

Balen could count at least four of his students' shadows which more than likely meant the entire class was there. Their faces were suddenly alight by magic, a duo of spells joining the volley of arrows as two other shapes broke from the others.

Leonie, continuously firing her bow from horseback, and Lorenz, also atop his horse, pressed their steeds toward him.

They were coming to get him.

Balen doubled up his effort to increase the distance between himself and the closest wolf. Lorenz had sped past Leonie and was quickly closing in on him. He would have to time this just right or Lorenz would be in danger of being overwhelmed by the pack despite Leonie's efforts to cover them.

Barely one exhale had passed before the moment had come. Lorenz jerked the reins, his horse sidelining so that Balen came close to hitting them head on, but this was Balen and he was already in the air and using Lorenz's offered hand to orient himself upon the back of the steed. Magic and arrows devastated the space he had just been, and it was a credit to Lorenz he was able to keep his horse under control with one hand.

But one wolf was particularly stubborn, shrugging off his students' deterrents as if they were little more than drops of rain. It's claws tore at the horse's flank, threatening to drag them down.

The Sword of the Creator lit the space with red as Balen snapped it out with enough strength the wolf was thrown off it's feet.

Lorenz was back in control, his horse scrabbling against the rocky slope as it retreated in haste. "Professor, whatever aim you desired from this endeavor, it is unbefitting of someone of your station to put themselves at such risk," he berated.

That was one of the more common complaints against him.

He still wasn't used to such concern.

They had drawn even with Leonie whose horse fell into step beside them. "You can just say you were worried, Lorenz."

"Tsk. I worried? That is preposterous. I am only performing my noble duty to help the common folk..."

"Yeah, yeah," Leonie interrupted with a laugh. "You can hide behind fancy words all you want, but we know, don't we, Professor?"

Compared to the other two houses, the Golden Deer was a bit of an anomaly with it's strange mix of commoner and noble bloodlines. It had once been a divisive feature between his students, wrought with misunderstandings.

This was one of those situations they'd figured out along the way.

Lorenz may talk fancy, but it was what was behind the words that mattered.

"We know," Balen agreed.

Lorenz was notably silent though whether it was a deliberate attempt to ignore them or due to their closing proximity to the rest of their class, Balen wasn't sure.

The mercenary-turned-professor leapt from Lorenz's horse, landing among his other students the moment they had regrouped. As he guessed, every one of his students were there and a subtle twinge of warmth spread within.

Hilda was the most outspoken, exclaiming a "What a mess, Professor!" from her position leaning against the head of her axe, but Balen could see her smile in dark.

Raphael clapped Hilda on the shoulder, nearly knocking her off balance. He didn't seem to notice her scowl as he, instead, flexed his arm. "How'd you know I missed my evening workout?"

"You miss your evening workout fifty percent of the time in favor of staying in the dining hall until it closes," Lysithea stated.

Balen could practically hear her eyes roll in her voice.

But this was not a time for conversations. They still had a serious conundrum at hand with upwards of ten monsters and a demonic beast closing in upon them. At least the demonic beast was slow at crossing the valley. They needed to secure themselves before tackling it together.

He cut into the conversation as Raphael let out a laugh.

"Ignatz, focus on the eagles closing in from the North and monitor the demonic beast's progress. We want to remain out of it's range until we can fight on our terms. Leonie, to the North and have your lance at the ready. Everyone else, to the South. Hilda, Lorenz, Raphael in the front."

The Golden Deer transformed immediately from a dysfunctional group of students into soldiers and split into their assigned duties without complaint until only Claude remained at Balen's side. His House Leader already had an arrow nocked at the ready, fingers idly caressing the end.

"Nothing too crazy, eh, Teach? If this isn't it… Well, I'd hate to see the situation you would consider to be..." Even in the dim light Balen could see Claude's smile grow and the ever-so-slight shift of his eyes to the glowing Sword of the Creator. "… or, perhaps, I wouldn't miss it for all of Fodlan. At any rate, glad you're still alive."

Balen nodded in what was as close to expressing a similar sentiment as he got. He shifted his grip on the Sword of the Creator. "Shall we?"

Claude laughed, letting the arrow loose at an eagle soaring above them. It screeched as the arrow shot true and wedged itself in the wing of the giant bird.

A whiff of scorched feathers told Balen it had already been wounded by a spell from Lysithea, and it would not take much more to take it down. Sure enough, one hit from the Sword of the Creator and it crumpled, falling from the sky and into the cliffs adjacent to them.

"I'll watch your back as always," Claude offered, a second arrow at the ready.

Balen needed nothing more. He had long since passed the point of questioning Claude.

He took off at a run to join the front, passing Marianne as she healed a distant wound a wolf had given Hilda. He caught a glimpse of Raphael blocking another wolf attempting to break through to reach Lysithea before the young mage threw an unfamiliar spell in it's face, and it retreated from the two. Lorenz was struggling against a wolf at least a head taller than the others, and that was where Balen gravitated.

Two arrows rocketed past as he closed the distance, and then he was driving the wolf back with a swipe of his sword. Emboldened by the howl of the wolf as the Sword of the Creator ate at it's flesh, Balen waved off Lorenz. "Go help Hilda," he ordered.

Lorenz bowed his head for the briefest of moments. "Certainly, Professor."

That left Balen facing down the massive wolf as it paced before him, it's eyes glinting with an intelligence not often seen in a mere beast. He made a mental note not to underestimate it.

It lunged at him from the left, the Sword of the Creator meeting air as the wolf apparently thought better of it's attack and backed up. It didn't save it from Balen as he pressed forward, deftly changing the weapon's direction so it met its leg. The blade tore through muscle from shoulder to claw. An arrow lodged into it's wounded shoulder, and it's howl shook the stone beneath Balen's feet.

Or so he had thought.

"Teach!"

Claude's warning was a second too late as the ground erupted beneath Balen, the impact sending him reeling through the air with the breath knocked from his lungs. No number of arrows from Claude could stop the wolf from falling upon him, teeth and claws held at bay only by the awkward twist of his wrist that held his weapon in a protective block. Unfortunately, it required both his arms to keep the wolf from overwhelming his strength and, despite how it's hide was becoming riddled with arrows, it showed no signs of letting up it's attack.

He could admit, it wasn't a good scenario.

The wolf twisted, one claw crashing into the ground on Balen's left and leaving thick gouges in the stone. With the wolf partially free, Balen was about to be in even more serious trouble.

Until he saw it.

The pommel of a sword imbedded in his attacker's flesh.

A familiar sword of which took him months back.

**_Where is your sword?_ **

He could see Blaise flush in his mind's eye and her answer in Sign.

**_Lost it._ **

For some reason that made him... angry. Very angry.

How close had she come to be in this exact position? And alone no less? Had she been harmed? He couldn't recall that detail. He regretted he hadn't gone with her.

But, also, she'd downplayed it like she always did if she thought she could get away with it.

Blaise … why couldn't you just be forthcoming?

Balen grit his teeth and used every bit of strength he possessed to shove the wolf back with the Sword of the Creator. He did the unthinkable then and abandoned the Holy Relic. He rolled past the wolf, one hand gripping the hilt of his sister's old weapon. The Crest of Flames lit the air as he ripped the blade from the flesh of which had healed around the foreign object.

The wolf's cry made his ears ring.

Blaise had been aiming for the creature's heart, he realized.

Spinning the weapon in his hand, he followed her path and angled the blade through the same wound as the wolf lunged in a mess of snarling teeth.

Balen felt as the life abruptly drained from the great wolf, it's body seizing before falling limp and sliding from the sword as gravity dragged it to the ground. He was left panting though from more than simple exertion, Blaise's sword feeling unusually heavy in his hand. He hadn't the want to drop it, however, and so scoured the canyon around him.

It appeared all the giant eagles had been disposed of and the wolves were down to two with Raphael, Lorenz, Hilda, Lysithea, and Marianne handling the situation.

"Professor! Claude!"

Balen snapped his head around, muscles tensing in anticipation, when Ignatz scurried down an embankment to stand by Claude.

"The demonic beast is closing in. If we do not want to fight it, we need to move now," Ignatz exclaimed.

"Any chance we can lure it to the edge of a cliff?" Claude inquired.

Ignatz jolted as if startled and he moved to resettle his glasses. "I... well, it is persistent in it's approach but it will take more than arrows. It doesn't seem fazed at all by Leonie's or mine."

Claude nodded, one hand on his chin. "I say we do as we did in Conand tower and find a way to back it off a cliff. Even if the fall doesn't kill it, we should have sufficient time to get out of this forsaken canyon. What do you think?"

It was a question directed to him, Balen knew. He was, personally, loathe to leave the creature alive when it was threatening them so but...

His gaze landed on the ongoing fight between his students and the wolves.

… He had already endangered them enough.

"Grab Lysithea. Her magic will help push it back from a distance while Leonie and I can push from the front," he ordered, nodding to Ignatz before the young archer raced off for the mage.

Balen snatched up the Sword of the Creator and followed Claude where they presumed Leonie waited. He thrust Blaise's sword into Claude's free hand as they crested the embankment. "Take this."

"Teach, you shouldn't have. You know I'm rubbish with a sword."

That was a joke. The only thing Balen had found Claude had difficulties with was lancework where he was truly abysmal. "Don't lose it," he insisted, clapping him on the back as he passed his house leader. He'd learned the action was some form of affection... at least with Claude and Raphael . Blaise hadn't been as appreciative and complained for weeks after that he'd bruised her. Hilda probably agreed with his sister's sentiment.

Claude eyed the weapon skeptically but shrugged and forced the blade into his half-empty quiver where it stuck out but was more or less secure. "Whatever you say. I'll try and keep the beast disoriented for you," he offered.

A nod and Balen jogged out to meet Leonie who had already spotted him and was nudging her horse along toward him.

The horse snorted and shook it's head as Leonie pulled it to a halt. "Professor, what's the plan?" she demanded, eyes focused outward toward the sounds of something very large moving.

He briefly explained as he searched out an adequate location to lure the beast. Somewhere he and Leonie would have ample space to move yet limiting to their foe. A spell of white magic he cast illuminated his chosen destination, earning a thumbs up from Claude.

So they should all be on the same page at least.

It didn't take long for the beast to finally come into view, drawn to them by some unseen thread.

Drawn to him, he corrected himself, the "Sothis-blessed."

He motioned to Leonie, and they were off, Leonie's steed keeping pace with Balen in a slower, more careful gallop.

More than the others, Balen was fond of Leonie's companionship in a battle. She fought like he did or, at least, the way he had been raised. As Jeralt's "one and only official apprentice" (she said that five times a day), it was expected she would pick up some of his maneuvers both in horseback and the lance in which his father favored.

Balen was fond of the familiar.

It grounded him and left him knowing exactly how to swing a battle in his favor.

The black beast was another matter altogether. He had never battled anything quite like it before Conand Tower, and there was enough there of which he knew he'd rather not make such a common occurrence. There was something truly gruesome in the way Miklan had been twisted and torn apart, unnatural in the way the way his body beget the beast…

... Concerning in the way the Lance of Ruin instigated the transformation.

The image burned in his mind when the lance's stone shone black and consumed the man.

The Sword of the Creator held no such stone though there was a conspicuous hole in the pommel where it should rest.

Balen almost felt he was back in Conand Tower as he slashed the Sword of the Creator at the beast before him. His weapon seemed to melt the protective hide in a way Leonie's lance and Claude's arrows could not hope to achieve.

But what was it about the weapon that made it so... different? Was it the stone, was it the Crest, was it the actual weapon? All of the above?

Was it dangerous?

The Sword of the Creator always glowed red when he touched it. It was familiar, like an old friend he never knew existed much less had.

But, if Miklan became a beast from wielding the Lance of Ruin, could the same happen to him?

He hadn't asked Rhea.

Gifting Sylvain the Lance of Ruin and then Flayn and Blaise's disappearance... the question had slipped his mind. He suddenly wasn't as confident in the weapon as he had been. All of Blaise's side-eyeing, her avoidance, the way she flinched, recoiled, or, otherwise, briefly took on the characteristics of a caged animal came to the forefront of his mind.

He had noticed. He knew her mannerisms better than anyone else.

She knew something he didn't, and he should have tried to find out.

Balen dodged claws and teeth. He outpaced the dark magic the beast spewed upon the ground. It was only interested in him, showing zero interest in Leonie or Claude even as they picked away at it's defenses.

It was easier than Miklan in that way, falling easy prey to the massive spell Lysithea cast upon it when she finally joined the fray. The beast, already on unsteady legs, couldn't recover it's defenses as Balen danced out of range and cut his sword in a horizontal arc. Leonie had switched to her bow and fired shots along with Claude at it's feet, and a second spell from Lysithea sent it tumbling deeper into the canyon below.

Silence permeated the air, an uneasy silence that made the hair on back of his neck stand on end.

Balen spun and took count of his students. Leonie, Claude, Lysithea… they seemed fine. Unharmed for the most part though they seemed to feel what he did as well, exchanging uneasy glances with one another. He ran past them where he had last seen the rest of his students and slid down the embankment.

Several cries of "Professor!" reached his ears.

They sounded like lost children and something in his chest tightened.

He heard frantic whispers of prayers, he could see the white glow of healing magic in the dark.

"Hilda!" It was Claude who called out from behind him, sliding past Balen in a haphazard kind of way with rocks rolling in every direction. "What happened?" he demanded.

More wolves happened, coming from deeper in the valley. Hilda had taken a hit for Marianne.

It felt as if a dagger pierced within him, and he clawed back at time, erasing the event from all but himself. He shuddered within at the pervasive pain even as he calmly ordered his House Leader to return to the other group.

Claude's leadership would turn the tides below.

He ordered Leonie to fall back with her bow, her only job to cover him and keep an escape route open. For all his concerns over the Sword of the Creator, now wasn't the time for them to hold him back, instead searching and pulling deep for the coursing power.

It was all he could do to keep the beast at bay until Lysithea arrived, but it was worth the heaviness in his limbs when he heard his students' victory cheers reverberate through the canyon, louder even than the black beast's roar.

Balen stayed where he was, falling back into a familiar numbness that was more comfortable than considering what was going on within him. His eyes followed the beast's pacing below. It wasn't dead, but it was well out of reach.

He saw Sothis appear out of the corner of his eye, the green-haired girl staring out over the expanse of Zanado.

Or, more specifically, where the confrontation with the Flame Emperor and Chevalier took place. There was no longer any sign of either.

"I cannot help but…" Sothis trailed off with a violent shake of her head. "... No, our work is done. Let us return before the demonic beast catches up…"

Balen nodded, turning his back upon the beast and all of the Red Canyon.

As he gathered his students together, he did not think he cared to return.

~FE~

He was quick to retreat from his class once they were safely within the walls of Garreg Mach. He told them he had to report to Rhea, but, mostly, he didn't want to look at them and feel that gnawing sensation inside himself.

Guilt.

Balen had figured little to nothing out. He was not any closer to finding Blaise, and he'd endangered his students. If it wasn't for Sothis... he'd have failed.

Again.

His body moved sluggishly through the grounds of the monastery.

It struck him to think he was tired.

Why now of all times?

_You really don't understand, do you?_

Balen swallowed his reply though he knew it didn't stop Sothis from hearing it.

… He couldn't handle more cryptic words at the moment.

Sothis huffed, materializing in his direct path. She floated at face level with her arms crossed.

He could push through her he knew. It wasn't like she was a physical barrier no matter how she tried to act as though she was. But she was Sothis and Balen did try to respect her so he paused his walk.

He waited.

And waited.

Sothis stared right back at him, foot tapping in the air. It reminded him a bit of Blaise when he'd done something she didn't like.

"Sorry."

Sothis shifted, bending at the waist so her face was inches from his with her hands on her hips.

_For?_

Balen raised an eyebrow.

For whatever she was mad about obviously.

His green-haired companion placed a hand against her head at that, shaking it while simultaneously massaging her temple. _No, I'm not accepting that this time. Figure it out on your own._

With that she disappeared, leaving a slightly flustered and disgruntled Balen wondering what she was talking about. Shaking his head of the mystery that was Sothis, he continued his walk through the monastery.

It was past dawn by the time he was climbing the stairs to the second floor, bright, morning sunshine filtering through the windows. The many torches lined along the staircase looked dark in comparison. He passed only a guard or two in his path to the audience chamber, each saluting in respect to which he nodded. No other people were in the hallways this early.

Hopefully his students had the sense to keep the quiet and not draw attention to themselves. Then he thought of Claude and Hilda, the two least likely to keep to themselves ever and rolled his eyes.

He pushed his students from his mind as he neared the audience chamber. He could hear voices spilling from the room, but the door was open which usually meant anyone was welcome inside. As such, he was about to walk straight inside when the voice speaking made him pause.

His father.

Balen knew his father spoke with Rhea frequently. His job technically required such, but something in the way his voice was lowered suggested the conversation should have been held behind closed doors.

He should probably walk away.

He would have except he happened to make out Blaise's name, and, before he knew it, Balen was straining to make out what was being said.

"Peace, Jeralt. I understand your daughter's disappearance has been difficult. It has been so for many of us and why I have allocated as many resources as I am able to her recovery..."

Rhea's voice was its usual calm, laced appropriately with sympathy.

His father, on the other hand, made a noise more similar to a scoff. Balen was certain he must have spent much of the night drinking to do so openly before the Archbishop. "The Western Church is a scapegoat," he argued. "Nothing can be found there."

"They have made it clear of their alignment with questionable allies. The very same implicated in Blaise's kidnapping."

"Doesn't mean they know where they are."

There was a pause in the conversation before Rhea eventually spoke again, her voice softer still. "I do not believe Blaise will come to much harm. They returned her before, did they not?" she asked.

Returned her?

The words rang hollowly in his ears as he scoured his memory for any time Blaise was missing previously.

Jeralt bristled, an edge to his words. "How is it you…?"

"I was there at their birth, Jeralt. I know as well as you, Blaise was not born with the Crest of Chevalier."

"And was Balen born with the Crest of Flames?" Jeralt shot back.

Another pause of which had Balen straining ever more so as not to miss her reply.

"…Sitri bore the Crest of Flames though it was not a well-known fact. Balen inherited it from her," Rhea answered slowly. "Jeralt, I think of you and your children as family…"

"Then tell me who they are…" Jeralt interrupted, his voice straining, cracking even. "...And why they have been interested in my children since long before they could hold a sword," he pressed.

"I do not have the answers you seek. I implore you to instead focus on the investigation, and, I promise, you will be the first to know when a lead is uncovered," Rhea assured him.

From what Balen could hear, his father only grunted before excusing himself. And, by excusing himself, Balen meant Jeralt spun on his heel without any of the usual formalities expected. The heavy, unsteady clomp of his boots towards him had Balen casually backing out into the shadows to wait in an alcove. Drunk as he was, Jeralt passed him by without a glance.

He waited there for quite some time after his father left his vicinity.

Processing.

_You must have been young to have no memory of her initial disappearance. Your strongest memories from before stem from your sister._

Sothis' irritation was still obvious in her voice, but at least she was still speaking to him. That was something.

He turned her words over in his mind.

They helped not except to further grow an inkling of doubt he was ill-prepared for.

He was missing critical information, and, as long as he was, his approach was flawed.

And, in an echo of the Flame Emperor's words, Blaise was the one paying the price. It made him cringe to think the masked enemy had a point on some level.

Two weeks.

The enemy had been ahead for two weeks.

"Balen?"

Only the slightest wince was evidence of his surprise as Rhea called out to him. He shifted around to see the Archbishop with a concerned expression watching him from outside his hiding place.

"I believed I sensed your presence. Might you join me for some tea, and we can discuss what you heard between your father and I?" she suggested.

For the first time in many months, Balen was wary to accept. He could feel a hint of Sothis' similar hesitance though she said nothing.

But he did have questions and Rhea almost certainly had some answers so he nodded.

He followed her in silence.

Rhea always made a crescent moon tea blend, and she did not veer from such today as Balen watched the now-familiar routine. Normally, she seemed happier as she prepared the tea, but today her movements were full of tension. It could have been his imagination, but he thought the tea may have absorbed some of the atmosphere. Even his first whiff suggested a more bitter quality to it than usual.

Of course he mentioned nothing but sipped at the hot beverage as he always did.

And, as always, Rhea was the one to engage in conversation.

"I am afraid Jeralt has never quite come to terms with your mother's death," Rhea admitted in a whisper as she stirred a spoonful of honey into her tea.

"You knew her?"

It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement. Their conversation had made that clear enough to Balen.

"Your mother?" Rhea questioned, a deeper frown pulling at her lips. "Yes, she... was a nun here at Garreg Mach and…. very dear to me." Rhea trailed off, passing the resulting silence off as a moment to sip her tea. "She was always frail and birthing twins is difficult for even the healthiest of women. It was too much for her but, in the end, she weighed her life against her childrens' and chose them. Chose you..." Rhea looked at him then with a deep fondness that he couldn't help but feel drawn into, "...and your sister. It was her decision."

Balen broke the eye contact, suddenly finding an interest in the various paintings on the wall depicting the Goddess. The Sword of the Creator felt heavy in it's sheath, and he fidgeted.

The sound of Rhea setting her tea on the table drew his gaze back to see she had looked away from him. "I see much of Sitri in the two of you. I can only imagine the pain Jeralt must feel."

Balen didn't have a response. He didn't know either.

"Do you remember the Book of Seiros Part Five? The sentence following the eternal commandments?" Rhea asked.

He had to think back to when he had read the Books of Seiros, but still it took only a moment for him to nod.

Rhea smiled, soft and full of pride. "'The Goddess cares for and protects all that is beautiful in this world.' Do not fear. Her will is eternal," she assured him.

"Seiros ensures that her will be done," Balen quoted, his eyebrows knitting at the statement within the texts. It bothered him in a way it hadn't before. Like the Goddess needed Seiros who was a mortal… and no longer alive. So who did that now? The Church as a whole? The same Church that was currently waging a kind of war with it's own factions?

It didn't inspire much confidence.

Rhea beamed even more, seemingly unaware of the internal question beyond the quote. "Yes, her divine revelation was written for us to understand the path the Goddess has laid out before us."

Balen barely heard her, his thoughts still following it's own direction.

Because, if the Church decided what the Goddess willed, then that naturally put Rhea at the head of that position.

And Rhea shifted her resources back to the Western Church.

"Blaise isn't priority," Balen stated aloud, the Archbishop's smile vanishing as quickly as it had come.

She was silent for a long moment, no doubt considering her words carefully. "We have a duty to protect and, as such, I must allocate our attention to areas of which will protect the most. Not just one."

Balen nodded. Of course he could understand that.

Rhea wasn't the Goddess. She wasn't omnipotent and eternal, seeing all, hearing all, etc. She did what she could, and there were so many in need of their help.

It didn't stop his feelings of disappointment, however.

Blaise was in the hands of a Goddess who, for whatever reason, was relying on mortal judgement to protect Fodlan.

Was that right? Or was he misunderstanding something?

Rhea must have had an inkling of Balen's doubts as she continued right on cue. "The Goddess's Will flows in strange ways. She appears in her own time aligning her plans with those who love her. Sometimes faith is all there is, and we must cling to it. Watch. And see," Rhea admitted.

He supposed the Goddess did perform miracles even now…

"Was what happened to Miklan Gautier the Goddess's will?" It was quite the sudden question he knew, but Rhea showed no sign of being surprised by it.

"His transformation into a Black Beast was nothing short of divine punishment from the Goddess. Punishment for someone arrogant and foolish enough to use a Hero's Relic even though they were unworthy and unqualified," Rhea answered with just a hint of an edge to her voice.

So the Goddess performed judgment as well...

"Will I share the same fate?"

"Dear Child, recall the fourth eternal commandment. If someone without a Crest were to wield the Relic you possess, they would likely meet the same fate as Miklan. You, however, have been chosen. You are worthy of wielding the Sword of the Creator so there is no need to worry."

He was worthy.

Sothis-blessed.

The Black Beast was cursed.

"Is Blaise worthy?" Balen inquired.

She had calmed the Lance of Ruin in a way he felt no one else could. Surely that was a blessing from the Goddess.

Rhea maintained her smile, but Balen could see the tension within. "Why ever would she not be?"

There was an expectation to her voice. Balen got the feeling she wanted him to explain the question. He shrugged instead.

He didn't want to explain having seen Chevalier in Zanado where, apparently, only the cursed are welcome.

His skin prickled as Rhea regarded him for another moment before the stare was broken and she poured them another cup of tea. "... I assume you have heard my decision on the Battle of the Eagle and Lion..."

An easier topic. Balen thought it a more pleasurable conversation. He transferred his full attention to it and allowed his questions to fall away into the recesses of his mind.

For later.

But not much later as it would turn out.

As if the Goddess insisted he work through it, Balen found himself stumbling upon Claude in the library that evening. Claude who flashed his exaggerated smile in greeting and offered the professor Blaise's sword with a flourish. His house leader didn't ask about the weapon Balen had requested he hold onto but the question was there in the way Claude's gaze regarded it.

"My sister's," Balen admitted, if only to satisfy his student's curiosity. It wasn't exactly worth being secretive over.

"I had a hunch," Claude stated. He said it like it wasn't an interesting bit of information.

His eyes betrayed him.

"She was there," Claude went on.

"Was," Balen repeated. "Not anymore."

He didn't say it had been several months ago since she had lost the sword.

"So we're back to ground zero then?" Claude guessed, stretching his arms behind his head as he raised his eyes to stare thoughtfully at the ceiling.

They had never left ground zero.

But Balen didn't say that either. Claude likely already knew.

"Say, Teach, that Demonic Beast. Do you think it was once human?"

Again he asked the question as if he was curious about the weather, not even glancing down from the ceiling.

Balen hesitated. Rhea had forbidden all of them from mentioning what they had seen at Conand Tower lest the general public turn on the nobles. But then this was Claude who was in nearly as deep as Balen. "Rhea suggested it was divine punishment for misuse of a Relic," he explained.

So, yes.

The Demonic Beast was cursed.

Claude chuckled softly.

It was still fake.

"Well, I don't know about all that…" he mused.

"You do not believe in divine punishment." It was a statement and not a question from Balen.

Claude shrugged. "I believe your sister might have had the right idea as opposed to the Archbishop."

Balen jerked slightly. He had noticed too?

"She treated them with caution and not with pride. Seems to me, if it is divine punishment, the Goddess has a curious way of deciding what is worthy of judgement and what isn't," Claude remarked. "There is no record of the Relics having such a power..." he waved his hand at one of the tables full of books stacked in pillars taller than the two of them. "... I've looked."

That was odd from an educational standpoint, but not so much if Rhea wanted to keep the peace.

And Claude wasn't wholly correct.

There was one text of which may not state it directly but certainly could infer such.

Balen pushed by his student and disappeared amongst the bookcases. He knew exactly where to find it, returning to an intrigued Claude in a matter of minutes. Opening the text, he pointed out a passage.

_The Goddess's power, intended to stem the flow of evil, became a tool of destruction all because of the greed of humanity._

It certainly could mean nothing more than the Relics being turned upon one another and for oneself but it was vague enough to lend question. Besides, wasn't that what happened to Miklan? He knew he couldn't wield the Lance of Ruin yet stole away with it. His greed led to his transformation.

Claude clapped Balen on the shoulder. "In the sacred text of Creation. I knew I kept you around for a reason," he laughed before he trailed off, expression turning oddly serious as he turned away from the text and toward his professor. "I am not certain what this means, Teach, but it seems to me you've met a dead end. I found something that might help in your sister's desk..."

Balen had half a mind to berate Claude for snitching through Blaise's personal items, but he couldn't deny the curiosity of what he had found.

Nor the trepidation.

His house leader wasn't even faking a smile.

Claude slipped something nondescript out of his cloak and held it out.

An envelope addressed to Blaise from the looks of it. The seal was broken already, suggesting it wasn't exactly new.

Balen glanced from the envelope to Claude before he slowly pulled the letter out. Whatever was in it, Claude clearly thought it important. His eyes scanned the letter.

_I desire an audience with you over a matter of great importance of which I cannot divulge as flippantly as through a letter. However, I believe it will be of benefit to you. Should you choose to attend, I will be where we first met at precisely ten o'clock PM on the second day of the Blue Sea Moon. If I am correct in my belief you will have some interest in this letter, I urge you to make every effort to attend. Explanations will be given in person._

_With Névé's blessing, I look forward to your presence._

_-FE_

FE, Névé… If he hadn't already seen the two together he might not have understood the implications within the letter.

The Flame Emperor and Chevalier.

"She must have gotten this letter some time before the Blue Sea Moon," Claude stated.

He was right, of course, which made Balen's blood freeze on it's own.

They had been in contact with Blaise much longer than he had anticipated… and no one had noticed. "I already knew they tricked her," Balen admitted without taking his eyes from the letter.

"I don't know, Teach. I don't see why they would trick her. She didn't sell them out during the Rite of Rebirth or after, and she wasn't being held with Flayn. I was thinking someone else found out."

Balen didn't need Claude to explain who that someone else might have been under the circumstances that Blaise was a willing ally of the Flame Emperor and Chevalier. He steadfastly ignored the idea. He held the offending letter back out to Claude. "Burn it."

Claude raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he asked.

He nodded.

The implications were too great if the wrong person saw and misunderstood the situation.

"I want Blaise to come home. Not be executed," Balen insisted.

Claude stared at him for a heartbeat longer before pocketing the letter. "Fair enough. I'll see to it," he agreed. With the faintest of smiles, he nodded to Balen once more and left the professor to himself.

For his part, Balen moved to return the Book of Seiros Part Two back where he had gotten it from. But not without reading the last line with a newfound perspective.

_The Goddess grieved and, heartbroken, hid herself in the heavens from whence she came..._

In no other scripture did it mention her return.

Maybe she never did.

_A/N:_

_First, I want to thank everyone as usual for their thoughts on the previous chapter. For those in the reviews, I agree with everyone that Edelgard doesn't do herself any favors in White Clouds. The difference in this story will probably remain minimal in that aspect but then we'll have to see cause I surprise myself frequently._

_This chapter... well, I ran out of time sort of. Work is not being good to me at the moment but I've opted to post what I've got since it's plenty long enough even without some stuff I wanted. You might feel it though but alas._

_Next chapter will, hopefully, tie up some stuff in preparation to go back to Blaise and move us into the Remire Village chapter!_


	19. Chapter 18

Edelgard von Hresvelg's withdrawal from the Officer's Academy and subsequent departure occurred only days following the original announcement. Balen suspected the delay was only due to the necessity to organize a legitimate escort for the Imperial princess, otherwise, she'd have marched off at the moment she'd made the decision.

It was more of a somber affair than it was extravagant. Sure the Black Eagles tried to be cheerful and throw a kind of going away party, but the recent losses within their house had taken their toll.

They tried, but there was little heart in it.

Except for the girl he'd rescued alongside Flayn. Monica always seemed to be cheerful and bubbly, a trait of which had Hilda and Lysithea concerned.

The concern Balen had with it was how clearly irritating Hubert found her, what with her temperament and the way she clung to Edelgard.

Perhaps it was good they were withdrawing.

Blaise would probably plot with Hubert to destroy the girl should she have seen.

Balen hadn't spoken to Edelgard even though Claude had hinted it may be beneficial in better understanding what next step he should take. He was neither blind nor dense enough to not know Edelgard would be the one most likely to be aware of what Blaise had been doing in her spare time.

Still, Claude didn't know Blaise.

Didn't know how she kept things to herself. Didn't realize she had never been the most honest of people.

Sometimes Balen wondered if that was a side effect of her being mute. If she just naturally didn't try to explain when she perceived it would take more effort than it was worth to do so.

Sign and writing were means of communication, but they weren't like speaking.

Maybe she just learned to give the easiest response whether it was true or not.

As it was, Edelgard may have been the most likely candidate for Blaise to have been honest with, but the likelihood that she actually was? Balen thought minimal.

He thought all of this through and, yet, he found himself waiting to speak to Edelgard von Hresvelg for the first time since that morning outside Remire Village. He didn't think she realized it was him at first as she was walking down the steps that would take her to the front gate with her vassal taking in every word she was saying like she was the Goddess herself. When she did notice, it was because he didn't scurry out of her way like the rest of the crowd.

Edelgard had done a double-take, and he swore she'd smiled for just a moment before it disappeared and replaced it with that ever-scrutinizing gaze. "Professor Balen, is there something I can help you with?" she asked.

She was polite, unlike Hubert who was glaring at him as if he thought Balen should be bowing at her mere presence.

Balen didn't answer her, evenly holding Hubert's glare.

As a moment passed in the kind of stalemate, Edelgard huffed with annoyance and waved her hand. "Hubert, please ensure our preparations are complete."

Eyes of a poisonous green did not release Balen even as Hubert bowed in acknowledgement to Edelgard's order. "As you wish, Lady Edelgard." He straightened and held the glare for another moment before brushing by.

"Forgive Hubert. The suddenness of my father's decline and our withdrawal has put him on edge," Edelgard admitted.

Balen nodded and another moment of silence passed.

Edelgard's eyes narrowed, a hint of tension finding it's way into her shoulders. When she spoke again, she was still polite but her voice somewhat forced. "Actually, I am glad to cross paths with you. When Blaise returns, would you mind giving her something for me?" She was already pulling a carefully bound scroll of parchment from the one bag Hubert didn't take from her. Edelgard held it out to him. "It is an invitation to the palace of Enbarr, signed by me personally. Any guard will allow someone carrying it inside with the highest priority. If she is ever feeling up to it, I would enjoy Blaise's company, however temporary. Of course, you and Sir Jeralt would be welcome as well," she offered.

"You're inviting her to the palace?" Balen repeated. He crossed his arms at the unusual request.

A hint of a flush dusted Edelgard's cheeks, but then she was tossing her hair in a nonchalant kind of way. "I gave them to all of my friends and, of course, Professor Manuela."

That still didn't put him at ease. How many of her friends weren't nobles? The act of walking into the palace as a commoner was completely different. "She's a commoner. The guards at the palace threatened her for getting too close the last time we were in Enbarr," he stated.

To Edelgard's credit, her eyes darkened, forehead creasing. "I was unaware of that," Edelgard admitted slowly and to no surprise to Balen. It only reinforced what he knew about Blaise and her privacy. "However, I assure you they will know to treat any bearer of my personal invitation with the utmost respect," she promised.

Balen wasn't convinced, but, if he knew Blaise, she would dance around the thought for awhile but eventually end up outside the palace.

If they ever found her.

"I am afraid I must begin my travel back to Enbarr. Perhaps we shall meet again soon," Edelgard offered, bowing slightly before she stepped around him to follow after Hubert.

He'd have let her go except for a sudden thought of which grabbed his attention. His hand snapped out and caught the hem of Edelgard's cloak, making her pause.

She turned back to him with a sharp, stiff twist, ready to reprimand.

Balen spoke first. "You said 'when,'" he realized and Claude's guess reverberated in his head. It spilled from his mouth before he'd really thought into it. "Are you leaving to find her?"

Edelgard only cut off her reply, tilting her head as she regarded him. Her face told him nothing.

So he waited.

"Tell Claude he would do well to mind his own business."

With that, she spun around for the second time, leaving Balen contemplating the enigma of Edelgard von Hresvelg. He watched her, but she didn't look back.

~FE~

Edelgard's return to Enbarr must have had a deeper affect on his thoughts than he expected. He found himself thinking of Claude and his inevitable return to Derdriu.

The city of Derdriu, known as the Aquatic Capital, was the very territory Claude was set to inherit as the only remaining heir of the Riegan family.

That was Balen's first lesson in politics though Claude's familiarity made it easy to forget.

Balen rarely, if ever, thought about it.

Claude didn't exactly flaunt his station.

He hardly mentioned Derdriu at all except on the occasion he was needed for a brief meeting with the current Alliance leaders and had to take off for a few days. Claude had made the offhand comment of Balen joining him sometime to see the city.

Looking back, Balen hadn't understood the sentiment. He simply stated the fact he'd seen the city before.

It was only partially true.

He had traveled to the city with his father, Blaise, and the rest of their mercenary group for a job, but to say he'd seen the city was a stretch. He hadn't truly looked, and, by the nature of their status as common sellswords, they weren't exactly given free rein to wander all parts of the city. Certainly not the nicer parts where Claude would have access.

Balen did remember a cove, however. It wasn't exactly part of Derdriu so much as an extension of the territory outside the city. It had made a brilliant fishing spot with soft-flowing, clear waters that would eventually spill into the Aquatic Capital to the South.

He knew he was dreaming in this moment not only because he found himself in that cove, but, also, because Blaise sat across from him. Stretched out in the sun next to the water, her attention was focused solely on the fishing pole across her lap and her attempt to attach the hook.

Balen glanced down at his own to see it was already set with a wiggling earthworm.

When he looked back up, his sister had successfully completed her task and was watching him. She grinned, her baited hook swinging haphazardly in the open air in the space beside her knee.

**_I'm going to catch something before you._ **

She always Signed stuff like that. Friendly challenges.

The funny thing was she wasn't even that competitive. She couldn't care less whether she caught something before him or not. She rarely won so he'd never quite figured out why she would suggest it at all. She always smiled though so she must get something out of it.

Balen shifted to the edge of the water and cast his line, Blaise following suit next to him. They sat side by side in companionable silence, listening to the chirp of birds and trickles of water. He didn't know how long they stayed there. It could have been minutes or maybe hours.

Eventually, Blaise linked their arms, her head falling to rest on his shoulder while she continued to stare out over the expanse of water.

He didn't think she was watching her line any longer.

"Hey, Balen?"

Balen jumped at the voice. It was soft and contemplative. Full of faraway thoughts. Maybe a little lost.

So very Blaise.

He didn't know how he knew it to be hers nor why it was so familiar.

He forgot about his line, staring instead at his sister like she'd grown another head. It took him longer than it should have to realize he should respond. "Yeah?" he asked. By contrast, his voice, though soft as well, was rough and deep. Nothing more, nothing less to be discerned within despite his best attempts at conveying... something. Curiosity? Surprise?

"Don't leave, okay?"

Don't leave? Where would he go? Why did she sound so... sad?

"What are you thinking about?" Balen wondered.

Blaise shifted, her fingers digging into his arm just a smidge more than was casual. "We're never going to do this again..." she whispered.

His blood froze at the words, an occurrence that was becoming strangely common as of late. His first question was wondering why she would think that, but his thoughts shifted onward before he could voice it.

He supposed she had a point.

They were in different places and not just physically. Balen was happy to have found a place as a professor while Blaise had yet to find hers. He could tell she had yet to fully relinquish her mercenary roots, and maybe there was a reason for that. Maybe she wasn't supposed to.

So she was right.

They would never travel together again like they used to, never sit like this, just the two of them, with no other care in the world.

Time moved them along whether they wanted to go or not.

A choked sound startled him, Blaise shuddering into his shoulder as her nails pierced the fabric of his cloak.

Why was she crying?

Before he could ask, Blaise tilted her head, her eyes meeting his.

And he recoiled. His fishing pole fell forgotten upon the ground as he ripped his arm from his sister's hold and shoved himself several feet away. Clambering to his feet, he looked back, blinking furiously.

But it was the same.

Blaise's eyes had always been the same dark shade of blue as his, yet now they practically glowed a molten red. He'd seen the same in Chevalier that night in Zanado, the memory bringing a shudder through his body.

Or maybe it wasn't even the memory as he suddenly felt exhausted, drained.

Paralyzed.

Why couldn't he move anymore?

"What are you doing?" he managed to grind out.

Because Blaise had to be doing something. She was the only one here besides himself.

He didn't know if it was his imagination or if her hair really had drained of all color. His vision seemed to be failing him, blurring as if trying to see through water. He saw her stand. Her hand reached out to him, swirls of red twisting up and down her arm until he saw nothing but the red.

"Balen?"

Her whisper reverberated within his mind.

Broken. A plea. Like a scared child.

"...It's dark."

Balen snapped awake from the dream-turned-nightmare, wrenching up into a sitting position fast enough his head spun. Blaise's words echoed, but, as the room began to settle and he recognized the red glow in his room as the sunrise shining through his window, they faded and he relaxed.

Some.

Nervous energy pulsed through his veins, and he wasted no time in throwing himself out of bed.

It was a mistake as his vision faded to black and he ended up on his knees, hunched over the floor. The room was too warm or maybe he was feverish. His hair stuck uncomfortably against his head and he ran his fingers through the sweaty mess for some relief.

A groan to his left had him tilting his head just enough to see Sothis similarly limp in the chair meant for his desk.

_What could have caused such dizziness?_

"You feel it too?"

_Yes, I… I am so sleepy and a bit… It is a struggle to merely stay conscious. Yet it feels familiar… as though pulled from a corner of my memory from a time long ago. I simply cannot fathom it._

Balen grit his teeth, grabbing onto the edge of his bed for support as he dragged himself to stand. He certainly had never felt this way before though he vaguely recalled times when Blaise or some of their mercenary companions had fallen sick. Sometimes they struggled to stand.

Was that what this was? Was he sick? Why now?

A half-hearted snort had him glancing back at Sothis. The girl had her head propped up on her arm. She struck him as disoriented and groggy except when their eyes met. They flashed with irritation.

_No, this is most certainly your fault._

Just say what you mean, Sothis. His head was already hurting from the strain of forcing the room not to spin around him.

_You have consistently ignored my advice, pushing yourself to the brink and beyond using my power. It has finally caught up to you. Yes, that is what this must be._

He recalled her annoyance after the altercation with the Flame Emperor and Chevalier. That's what it had been about…

"I just want to find Blaise."

What good was this power if it couldn't even bring his sister back to him?

Sothis blinked, her glare softening though her voice remained sharp.

_Some things cannot be achieved through power alone, and there is not enough power in this world to force what is not meant to be._

So what? He should just forget about her? See what happens?

The thought made his fists clench the bedsheets.

_I did not say give up. Only to consider the options and choose the best path. You are no good to anyone as it is._

Angry as he was, she had a point. He wasn't totally convinced feeling this way was his fault, but he couldn't argue that his inability to stand straight without support wasn't very helpful.

"Sorry," he apologized. He meant it this time.

Sothis blinked large green eyes at him before sighing, _What am I to do with you? You really are quite troublesome._

A knock on his door interrupted their conversation. He frowned and glanced out the window at the barely risen sun. It was too early to be one of his students which meant something else must have happened.

Squaring his shoulders, Balen hoped he didn't appear as bad as he felt. At least the room had stopped spinning now that he'd accustomed to standing straight.

His father stood on the other side of the door, tension obvious in his stance. "Sorry to wake you up, Kid, but Shamir just returned from Remire with her report," he explained.

Right. Balen recalled there being some reports of odd going ons at the village. He had honestly thought it wouldn't be anything serious, but if Jeralt was grabbing him... He only grabbed the Sword of the Creator before nodding he was ready.

To his surprise, his father didn't take him to the audience chamber but passed it without a second glance. They continued on through the corridors until Jeralt took a hard left into the infirmary where Manuela was already speaking to Shamir.

"… There are no absolutes in medicine but the chances are extremely slim. Restless movements, fits of violence, becoming bedridden or even impossible to wake... With symptoms that varied, there are only a few possibilities. It's either a mixture of poisons or magic. And dark magic at that," Manuela explained.

"That's what we're dealing with in Remire?" Jeralt interrupted.

Balen half-expected Manuela to return his father's question with a flirtatious comment, but all she did was sigh as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "Based off Shamir's descriptions, it is my working theory."

"We scouted the area ourselves," Shamir stated. "Speak with the knights. Hear what they have to say if you're curious," she offered.

"My children and I owe the people of Remire village If there's something going on, we must help them."

Shamir gave the sharpest of nods. "You should be able to find the scouts in the Knight's Hall. If you'll excuse me, I must report to Rhea. Thank you again, Manuela."

Balen stepped out of her way to let her by though he looked to Manuela. "You said dark magic?" he asked.

"Why, yes. Such unnatural response from the human body... I've no question this is someone's doing," she admitted.

Balen didn't like the sound of that and was immediately reminded of another suspected attack by dark magic. "Like the kind who killed the messenger meant to invite Blaise to Rhea's meeting on Flayn's disappearance?" he pressed.

Manuela's eyes darkened. It was no secret she had taken said situation badly. Balen had heard she'd personally vowed to end the Death Knight herself and Rhea had expressly forbidden her from leaving the grounds while she healed. She'd argued, loudly, about her supposed right to search for Blaise, but hadn't been able to walk down the corridor much less a full patrol until quite recently.

"Why, Professor, if you are implying what I believe you are, perhaps the Black Eagles and the Golden Deer should join forces once more."

"Nice try, Manuela, but you are still on house arrest," Jeralt cut in.

She snorted, unamused. "Please, I have nearly returned to my full capabilities. Rhea will be hearing from me. Count on it," Manuela snapped. She huffed and pushed by them. "Right now, in fact."

Manuela was serious alright, and Balen couldn't say it wouldn't be beneficial to have the Black Eagles on the same mission. He doubted Rhea would see it that way, however. It wasn't necessarily beneficial for the direction she was leading them.

"I'll be in my office making preparations..."

His father's voice surprised him. Although he still stood right next to him, he sounded far away. Very far away. He tried to turn to face him only to feel that damning paralysis in his limbs, something deep within strung up with all the tension of a taut bowstring. The accompanying helplessness did little to ease his rising horror as a darkness began to creep from the edges of his sight.

"… Hey, what's wrong!"

Balen wasn't sure, but the world suddenly shifted beneath his feet.

Then there was nothing but shadows in his eyes and the hard floor of the infirmary beneath him. He was well aware of his father beside him, shifting with sharp movements, until quite suddenly the tension evaporated and Balen shot into a sitting position.

His vision returned to see his father's concerned expression, but it was negligible compared to his own concern. Free to move again, he flexed his arms, a dull ache in the muscles that reminded him of Raphael's arm wrestling challenge of which led to him besting his entire house in the timespan of one lesson. The only other time he'd felt something similar had been following his most recent sparring match with Blaise, and she'd shot a fully powered thoron spell through him.

Although, in hindsight, that had kind of paralyzed him too, if only for a heartbeat.

His dream swirled to the forefront of his mind.

Was his sister involved?

"Balen, what happened?" Jeralt's demand jerked Balen out of his stupor.

"... Dizzy."

Balen stood up, somewhat surprised by how steady he felt on his feet after that incident.

His father relaxed at the apparent recovery, but his frown didn't alleviate. "If anything feels off, go find Manuela. No need to grin and bear it, got it?"

Balen nodded, his father watching him for a heartbeat longer before he left for his office.

That left Balen to consider his best course of action which he supposed would be to prepare his students for the trip to Remire village. He wasn't concerned too much. Classes had resumed albeit in a somewhat limited capacity but his students were far enough along to keep up with their own studies without formal instruction all the time.

They wouldn't be rusty.

That said, he did need to run inventory by them and procure whatever supplies they were short of.

Claude was always his first check-in, and Balen turned his steps to the direction of the library where his house leader spent the majority of his free time. It had been a bit of a surprise when Balen had first ran into Claude in the library by pure coincidence. Claude hadn't struck him as particularly studious while forming his first impression.

Balen had been wrong all those months ago even if Claude had a tendency to study Fodlan's culture and inner workings more than the curriculum.

Not to be disappointed, he found Claude in his usual spot in the back corner of the library, no less than three textbooks open before him while a single sheet of parchment was in his hands. If Balen didn't know any better, he'd say he looked triumphant.

He fought the sudden a urge to look over Claude's shoulder.

He didn't need to anyway as Claude whirled on him with his easy grin. "I found out something interesting," he announced.

Interest piqued, Balen crossed his arms. "Something interesting?"

"I've been researching the Heroes' Relics and their connection with Crests and the demonic beasts. The Crest Stone of each Relic is carved with a specific Crest- the one that has the ability to wield it properly. The Crests are the keys. You need the right one to safely use a Hero's relic," he began before lounging back in his chair, arms clasped behind his head. "The only thing I can't figure out is why doesn't the Sword of the Creator have a Crest Stone bearing a Crest?"

From the look Claude was giving him, it was quite apparent he had an idea already. Balen answered anyway. "It had one in the past." How many times had he seen the dream of the Great Battle on the plains? The Sword of the Creator in it's entirety calling out to him for reasons he couldn't explain?

Claude's lips twitched upwards. "Precisely. At least that's my current guess. I believe the Crest Stones might be the source of the Relic's inhuman power. When Miklan transformed into a Black Beast, he was taken over by something that originated from the Crest Stone and the Crest Stone was on his body. It all seems to add up..." his words were flowing with excitement by the time he swept the paper in his hand out for Balen to see. "... Now look at this picture. That creature is called the Immaculate One, who was supposedly sent by the goddess to save the followers of Seiros. See the pattern on it's brow and the faint circular boundary? Isn't it possible that's a Crest Stone? If all this is true, the Crest Stones are what power the ability to assume massive forms like that of the Immaculate One and maybe the Heroes' Relics can harness that transformative power-"

"Oh, it's you…"

Balen was actually so entranced by the drawing of the Immaculate One, he jumped at Seteth's sudden arrival. Claude cut off, as well, his mouth pressing into a thin line.

Seteth showed no sign of noticing the sudden tension. "…Have either of you seen Tomas recently?"

"No such luck. I was hoping to speak with him myself, but he must be out on the town," Claude stated, his chair clapping back down on four legs, prior enthusiasm gone.

Seteth was irritated by that answer if the way he pinched the bridge of his nose said anything. "I see, well… where did you find that picture?!"

Balen tilted his head to see the advisor glaring at the drawing of the Immaculate One he still held.

His reaction had Claude raising an eyebrow as he leaned forward, his smile becoming more bared like that of a predator. "It was in the library. Why do you ask? Is it something my youthful eyes shouldn't be seeing?"

"No, of course not," Seteth scoffed. "However, that is not part of this library's collection. It must belong to Tomas. It would be problematic if it got mixed in with the other books," he explained. He reached out faster than Balen would have credited him and plucked the drawing from his hands. "I will take possession of it for now," Seteth decided.

A spark of irritation flashed in Claude's eyes. "Take it away where no one can see it, you mean..."

"What was that?"

"That's what Tomas said. He said records that the monastery doesn't approve of tend to disappear," Claude challenged.

"Tomas said that? Preposterous. I have far too much to accomplish to waste time with this foolishness," the advisor complained before transferring his glare to Balen. "Professor, if you find yourself lacking in work to complete, perhaps you can look into this..." Seteth held a file out to him which Balen reluctantly accepted. His tone made it clear it wasn't actually optional. "… I look forward to seeing your report on the matter..."

He left without another word.

Claude let out a long whistle. "He sure left in a hurry and with the drawing two," he complained. His hand tapped the wooden table several times before his grimace switched back to a smile and he shifted some texts around to reveal a thin, journal-like book. "Luckily, he didn't notice my greatest discovery. Check this out, Teach." Claude shoved the book toward him.

The journal held a bunch of handwritten notes in smudged ink upon wrinkled parchment that made it difficult to read at a glance.

"What part of it should I be looking at?" Balen inquired, flipping the journal over to check out the title.

_A Scholar's Discussion of Fodlan's Ancient Civilizations as They Relate to Modern Territories_

Did a title truly need to take up the entire cover?

"The journal is interesting in how it looks to dissect the ancient wars with Fodlan's boundary countries to explain the country's xenophobia. What I wasn't expecting was to find a reference to..." Claude trailed off to reopen the journal to the original page and point to a section.

Balen scanned the words then blinked and reread them. "Chevalier," he stated.

"The original bearer of your sister's Crest," Claude agreed with a sharp nod.

Balen flipped the book over a second time searching out a date. Why was Chevalier mentioned in some random journal on Fodlan's boundaries written... five hundred years ago? It hadn't occurred to him to wonder before but how was she even still around? "Chevalier is the only known member of the Ancient Nabatean whose origins can be traced outside its singular community," he read aloud. Balen frowned. "What's Nabatean?" he asked.

"A civilization from before the rise of the Empire's founding. From what I've gathered, their beliefs became the foundation for Fodlan's spirituality in the Goddess and Crests," Claude explained. His eyes sparkled as he leaned forward, palms down on the table. "I tried to search for Chevalier, but I've only found a mention of her once, a short blurb stating her as the Goddess' Greatest Defender. Wouldn't you expect the 'Goddess' Greatest Defender' to have more history to her?"

The Goddess' Greatest Defender, huh?

Balen struggled to connect the image he had of the woman in Zanado to a follower of the Goddess. He, however, had no doubt she was to be faced with caution. Silent as the night and swift as the wind, Chevalier moved like a warrior.

"It is odd," Balen agreed for Claude's benefit.

"Odd enough to believe she may have done something to entrench Fodlan's suspicion of foreigners so deeply it prevails today?" Claude pressed.

Balen raised an eyebrow at that.

It seemed dramatic and yet his brief run in with Chevalier did nothing to dispel Claude's suggestion. "That's a lot of assumptions," he argued anyways. Assuming that was where it started, how had such mentality not died off by now? Who would fuel it this long and with no concrete information?

"Yeah," Claude agreed, one hand snaking behind his head as he smiled. "But you know me, Teach. All into the theories and you can't deny the thought isn't intriguing."

He nodded.

Certainly enough to bring up to Sothis.

~FE~

The next several days passed with relative normalcy, the daily routine of classes and mission preparations forcing Balen into the flow whether he liked it or not. The only exception was a continuous dream of the Blaise/Chevalier hybrid and the off/on sensation of weakness and the room spinning.

Luckily, he managed to hide the worst of the effects… at least no one called him out on it except his father and Sothis.

The side mission Seteth had assigned him was disturbing in it's own right and he used his spare time between the end of class and dinner to compile what he knew and thought about the disappearing students. He assumed it was related to Blaise, Flayn, and Monica even though Jeritza was no longer on the grounds. He already had suspicions of another player in this game.

It was just too bad they weren't overly suspicious.

He needed another perspective.

He couldn't talk to Blaise since she wasn't here. He couldn't talk to Flayn lest Seteth believe he upset her.

So that left Monica.

Searching out the cheerful red-head was not difficult. She somehow managed to draw more attention to herself than Claude and Hilda combined.

As such, Balen found her in minutes among some students in the courtyards. Most of them were Black Eagles from classes other than the one Blaise had frequented, but there were a few of the other houses. Balen didn't know any of their names except the girl stomping off from the vicinity of the small gathering.

"Lysithea," he called.

His youngest student cut off her incoherent grumbling and jumped at the call, fixing him with sharp eyes. "Professor," she greeted. She stood still for a moment before apparently opting to approach him.

"You okay?" Balen asked. It wasn't uncommon for Lysithea to be agitated for one reason or another but he made it a point to always ask just in case it was due to something more serious than a friendly tease.

"Fine."

He waited.

"They just think I'm too young and stupid to realize what they're doing," Lysithea suddenly complained.

"What is it they're doing?" Balen inquired.

Lysithea huffed, reorienting the three books she held in her arms. "Well, I don't know exactly. They didn't say much, but just thought I would do what they said without asking questions. Whatever it is though, they're going to get in trouble. Mark my words, Professor."

Balen crossed his arms, considering the group. "I'll keep an eye on them," he assured her. In truth, he wasn't that concerned. Some students just had a habit of breaking rules for the sake of it. He would know since he had Claude as his House Leader...

Actually, for that matter, it wasn't even specific to students. Blaise was the same way.

He briefly wondered why she and Claude didn't hang out more.

Regardless, it was usually harmless, meant to only agitate Seteth and Rhea.

Lysithea hummed, shrugging her shoulders. "They wanted something from a cathedral. Good luck finding out which one," she offered before continuing on her way.

A cathedral, huh? Probably after some sacred piece of art...

He'd mention it to Rhea and Seteth later.

For now he'd wanted to speak to Monica about the events surrounding her kidnapping. Carefully, of course.

"Kid!"

Balen hadn't taken one step toward the group before his father called out for him out of seemingly nowhere. Jeralt was in front of him by the time he blinked.

"We've got to go now!"

Balen immediately tensed at his tone, adrenaline beginning to spread through him. His father's face was deadly serious and his thoughts flew to Remire "Okay," he agreed.

"The situation in Remire Village has changed drastically. We don't know much more than that. We are hearing reports the villagers are killing each other. Some say houses are burning. Regardless, we need to move," he explained.

He wouldn't be the one to argue and simply nodded. "I'll get my students."

~FE~

The reports were not wrong. In fact, they were decidedly accurate.

Yet words could not begin to describe what was happening in Remire Village when they arrived on the outskirts.

The air smelled of smoke. It vibrated with screams of death, and Balen noted the absence of clashing weapons.

There was no need for weapons when the villagers turned upon each other with their bare hands.

Balen felt something similar to a wince at the thought. The village had always been peaceful, the villagers downright friendly. Now they tore at each other in a way even barbarians wouldn't.

He found he could not look away as a cackle of pure pleasure carried to his ears followed by a child crying for help.

His hand clenched the pommel of his sword.

"What's going on here?" his father whispered so softly Balen wondered if he was meant to hear at all. His confusion was evident even still.

"This is unbelievable... There's no way to tell whose lost their mind from who's mad with fear," Claude stated. He sounded calm but his hand twirled an arrow belying his nervous energy.

"If we don't act quickly, things are just going to keep getting worse!" Hilda pointed out. "I really don't want to get involved here... but we can't leave these people on their own, right?"

It surprised him that she was the first to heft her weapon, ready to charge into the village.

"How about we hit them hard enough to knock them out but not hard enough to kill them?" Raphael suggested.

"That's too reckless," Ignatz argued, pausing to settle his glasses as he sighed. "But… I'll admit, I can't think of a better option," he admitted.

Marianne bowed her head, her words just barely carrying over the screams. "If some must die, just know it was by the will of the goddess..."

Balen was certain if his sword had been a more common weapon and not of legends the hilt would have snapped in his grip. Would the Goddess truly will this kind of horror? Against innocent villagers?

…

Was she even aware?

"Stop that, Marianne! We have to save all of them. There's no way this madness is by the will of the Goddess!" Leonie snapped so sharply her horse shifted at her outburst.

Lorenz nodded to Leonie's words. "Nobles are responsible for the safety of commoners. By the honor of House Gloucester, I swear that I will save them all!"

"Claude. There are some strange-looking people here," Lysithea interrupted the discussion in her expected no-nonsense manner.

Balen felt Claude shift beside him. "So you noticed too?" He sounded impressed before nodding to the Western edge of the village. "There's a suspicious group hiding amongst the villagers. Could they be the culprits? If so…"

They were.

Balen didn't know how he knew, but he did. The grating of his sword leaving its sheath was music to his ears. "They will not be forgiven." He spun on his students. "Golden Deer, apprehend them and rescue the villagers."

Claude smirked a humorless smile. "There you have it. Our objective is clear. Let's move," he ordered.

Balen was already walking towards the Western edge of Remire. As always, Claude was on his heels. He was vaguely aware of his other students scattering of their own accord towards the cries for help. Leonie charged by in the wake of his father, the two riders disappearing into billows of smoke ahead of the others. He was fine with that.

He was better at killing people and so he would end this... save people that way.

The first crazed villager they came across jumped upon them from a window and fell by a single arrow from Claude.

Balen recognized him as the baker.

Another two who appeared to have been merchants were brawling with each other, fists punching and nails clawing as they rolled among the smoldering street. They showed no sign of noticing them nor the fire burning their clothing and skin. Balen put them out of their misery with one swipe from the Sword of the Creator.

Claude fired several arrows in quick succession after two others ran by them, one screaming for help. The mad villager was struck and sent sprawling into the dust while the other disappeared toward Remire's surrounding forest.

He knew both of them as simple farmers, their produce what supported Remire through long winters.

"Teach …" Claude began before he apparently thought better of it and shook his head instead.

It pulled him from his reverie, Balen cutting a straight path down the street as his vision faded to nothing but red and black. Red from the Sword of the Creator, red from the fire, red from the blood spilled on the streets or flowing from wounded villagers who fled by him. His eyes burned from the black smoke, but it did not obscure the warrior in black who did not belong in this scene.

... Or maybe he did.

Balen swept his sword before him in a silent challenge. He paused only when Claude placed a steady hand on his arm, his House Leader twirling an arrow in his periphery. "Fancy seeing you here, Death Knight. Or is it Jeritza? Another name entirely?" he drawled.

The glowing red eyes from the Death Knight's helmet shifted over Balen's shoulder. "You are not the one I crave…"

"A shame. You see, rumor has it you took a friend of ours. Would it be asking too much to exchange information before we fight it out?"

The Death Knight offered no verbal response, instead charging his steed toward them. His scythe swung upon Balen with the utmost ferocity, deflected back by the Sword of the Creator at the last possible moment. Claude was not quite as lucky, the butt-end of the scythe striking him in the stomach and throwing him on his back several feet away.

"Do your best to kill me with that blade," the Death Knight hissed as he urged his horse back, preparing another strike upon Balen.

Balen was already moving around behind the Death Knight, and he felt the scythe cut the air where he had been. He pressed his attack then, engaging his opponent with equal ferocity. The village around him seemed to erupt into a cascade of metal on metal as they traded blows.

Hit, hit, move behind the masked enemy. Hit, hit, and move again.

He pushed himself to the limit, maintaining his one step ahead, but, even still, the Death Knight was clearly not only an expert warrior but also at fighting upon horseback. Somehow, he was perfectly capable of maneuvering his horse quick enough to meet Balen's sword no matter the direction he dodged.

Balen felt the scythe cut into his shoulder and nearly dropped the Sword of the Creator. He was certain he would have been done for in that moment, the Death Knight's scythe already falling upon him, except his opponent stopped it's descent with a pained grunt.

An arrow jutted from the miniscule space where his armored gauntlet ended. Another two arrows followed but bounced off armor with a chink. The Death Knight gripped the offending arrow and pulled it from his skin.

Recognizing the opportunity when he saw it, Balen twisted his sword around and aimed for the resulting wound. There was a satisfying crunch as the Sword of the Creator cleaved at armor and bone alike.

Still, not enough damage was done. The Death Knight actually laughed and switched his scythe to his other hand.

And he was somehow just as good.

Scythe and sword once again began their dance of strikes and parries, neither willing to give an inch. The occasional well-timed arrow shot past him in search of an opening either on the knight himself or his steed, but even the animal was decked in armor and seemed to exhibit no anxiety at the escalating battle. A single sweep of the scythe drove Balen back whatever he had gained and, so, they maintained some semblance of a stalemate.

"Teach, move!"

Balen didn't question the shout, immediately disengaging his blade from the curve of the scythe and diving into a roll that would put a little distance between himself and his opponent. It wasn't a moment too soon either as a gale of wind pulled the heat from the air around him and ice crystals solidified where he had been. They grew with unnatural fury, encasing the Death Knight in a sheen of thick frost.

The Knight's armor cracked at the joints as he sought to free himself of the troublesome magic. He was slowed down enough, a second spell of the same blizzard hit him dead on.

Balen was right behind that second spell, falling upon the half-frozen Death Knight in a maelstrom of red light. The Crest of Flames brightened the sky and the Sword of the Creator hammered upon his armor one hit after another until the scythe was dropped and his helmet knocked loose, both falling to the cobbled street below.

The Death Knight- Jeritza- lay hunched over the saddle of his armored mount, blood dripping from the blow that removed his helmet. And he laughed. Low but unrestrained. Gleeful despite his apparent loss.

It gave Balen pause, straining to pick up the words muffled between laughs.

"My blade craves their flesh … the weak will eventually die..." Jeritza's head snapped up, a bared smile directed at Balen. "We will meet again."

The implication was not lost on Balen, the mercenary-turned-professor extending the Sword of the Creator after his opponent.

A breath too late, the Death Knight was gone in a flash of light.

The Sword of the Creator shattered a window in the building behind before a flick of his wrist brought it back to Balen.

There was no moment to contemplate it.

A slow, steady clap to his right drew his attention. Wary, he did not shift out of his fighting stance despite the slight shock of recognizing the individual through the smoke.

Tomas.

"Tomas! What in the world are you doing here?" Claude demanded, confused but equally wary.

Balen chanced a glance to see Marianne behind him and Raphael and Ignatz running toward them from down the street. The sound of a horse and a glimpse of purple told him Lorenz was in the vicinity as well.

"I'm not Tomas. My name is Solon, the savior of all!" A sharp smile stretched his face in a way that appeared foreign on the older features of the hunched librarian. The skin warped then, draining of color to a ghostly white and veins bulging through the paper thin flesh. The man in place of Tomas- this Solon- was not much different in terms of size, but the resemblance stopped there. His hair receded further and also lacked what little pigment Tomas had retained in his age. One eye was too large and obviously false, as dark as the abyss. The other an unnerving yellow. "What's the matter? So shocked you can't even speak? You were so easily fooled by my disguise... I was hiding away in Garreg Mach to get the blood of that little girl called Flayn. With her blood, we'll be one step closer to realizing our goal."

"The Death Knight was just a distraction and you are our true enemy. Why have you done this to this village?" Claude pressed. He didn't even hide how he drew an arrow from his quiver.

Solon chuckled. "Heh, I could have conducted this experiment on any test subjects. Now that I have what I have came for, I must bid you farewell." He turned to Balen, his grin only growing. "This was a fine opportunity to witness your power, Fell Star."

He was gone even as the twang of several bows let loose a barrage of arrows.

With a final clang as no less than three penetrated the broken wood of the home behind where Solon had stood, Remire village fell silent at long last. Balen stared at the empty space where Solon had just been. Only a second longer… If they had only distracted him a second longer, he'd have become a pincushion.

Solon deserved worse.

The silence was shattered when Balen released the Sword of the Creator upon what he recognized to have once been the blacksmith's shop. Weakened by embers, the wood splintered easily, half the building falling into a pile of rubble at his feet.

It was still in better shape than the rest of the village.

He tore his gaze, spinning where he stood, to burn the surrounding devastation in his mind's eye. He could feel the heat of the dying flames scorching his skin. The weather of the Red Wolf Moon was cold, but sweat made his clothes stick upon him as surely as if it was the Blue Sea Moon. Remire village's inn was nothing but a pile of wood and stone, the tavern beside it would soon follow as fire ate upon whatever it came across, the stands from the few marketers were in pieces, their goods thrown along the main path. Everything was covered in a thick layer of ash so even someone as familiar as he was with the village would find it difficult to distinguish anything. A harsh breeze brought the bitter stench of burnt flesh and the bodies of the fallen littered the street.

But the silence.

The silence was worse than the screams.

There was nothing left to be done. Nothing to save.

The damage was done and the silence taunted him. He hadn't saved the village or it wouldn't be this quiet.

The flames had eaten upon the tavern as much as it could and there was a loud snap as the wood gave way and it crumpled into nothing.

Balen didn't move.

Some of his students had gathered around him but not one said a word. He saw them look between each other for direction. For comfort.

"It's over… All we can do now is focus on our next move..." Claude was the one to step up, his voice making more than one person flinch. Voices didn't belong in the silence.

Balen knew Claude was waiting on him to choose their next move. But he had nothing to give them so he did not try.

"…Let's have a look around the village. There may still be people who need our help," Claude suggested just before Balen's silence stretched too long.

Balen forced himself to nod to the idea in some semblance of awareness. It was more from acknowledgement and purpose than because he expected to find any more survivors. Still, he was glad to hear his students break up into pairs and leave.

All except Claude.

Claude hovered for a moment before blocking Balen's view of dying flames. He was covered in ash and blood and he bore a large burn on his shoulder where his armor had been insufficient, but he still found it in himself to smile as he gripped Balen's shoulder. "All you can do now, Teach, is to keep smiling. Keep marching. That's part of a leader's job. You can't give in to despair. Not just for me or for you, but for all of us in the Golden Deer House…" Claude's attention shifted upon where he could see Lorenz and Marianne in the distance. "…We have to keep smiling so the others can move forward too. As long as we don't show that we're disheartened, they'd know they can make it too. That's what matters."

That's what matters.

Balen felt the slightest surge in his strength. Enough that he could at least nod and straighten, rolling his shoulder to loosen Claude's grip. The breath that filled his lungs was too warm, too toxic, but steadying nevertheless.

A horse's steady pace against the path drew his attention then to see his father expertly maneuvering his steed through the devastation toward them. His face was set in stone, but his eyes betrayed his thoughts.

Simultaneously furious and broken.

Jeralt swung off his horse beside them with a clatter of armor. "It looks as if we somehow managed to sort things out and casualties were ... kept to a minimum. They said they weren't picky about their 'test subjects,'" he sighed.

"They got what they came for," Balen stated. He didn't know exactly what that was, but Solon had said it himself. Looking at the remains of Remire, Balen only saw slaughter.

"They might take this success and attempt something even bigger next time. I hate to even consider it, but if they can replicate this incident on an even larger scale... If we're not careful, we'll have a full-scale war on our hands," Claude warned.

Jeralt gave a terse nod. "We will take what we have learned to Lady Rhea," he decided before nodding to Balen. "Gather your students together. We'll need them to assist the survivors accompanying us to Garreg Mach," he ordered.

"Right," Balen agreed.

Any further remark was cut off as Balen took note of soft footsteps in the distance approaching them. He knew they didn't belong to any of his students. This person had been trained to walk quietly.

And they were coming up behind them.

His hand fell to the Sword of the Creator, Claude following his lead to draw a hidden arrow from the sleeve of his armor and setting it in his bow.

Jeralt was the first to turn and face them. "State your business. Are you friend or foe?" he called, both willing and challenging.

Balen heard no response beyond a slight pause in the person's tread before they continued their approach. He closed his fingers around the hilt of his sword, drawing it slowly from his sheath as he turned to see a figure whose details remained obscured by the haze of smoke and waning sun.

Claude raised his bow, aiming his arrow.

Balen snapped his hand out at the last minute, forcing Claude's bow down. His house leader shot him a look, but he hardly noticed. Eyes transfixed on the approaching form, Balen was certain he knew them.

Even in smoke and darkness with only the flickers of embers allowing any visuals, Balen recognized them.

All at once the haze seemed to dissipate.

Blaise paused her approach less than a hundred feet from them. Her hair was a tangled mess, ash darkening the natural blue, her skin as well was dotted with darker splotches, illuminated by flickers of flames. She held no weapon and an unfamiliar red cloak was draped over her shoulders.

But it was her.

The blade of his sword tilted downward as his hold on it slackened and his feet carried him forward.

Her eyes followed him, unusually hesitant and wary though she did not move to retreat. Her lips twitched upwards, if only slightly and with an air of nervousness, when he stopped before her.

He mirrored it but more genuine.

Out of the ashes of the desecrated village, she'd found her way back to him.

_A/N:_

_Work is still horrid so expect delays until they get their act together. For reference, my previous goal was to write 1000 words a day but, right now, I'm lucky if I hit 500 words. Bright side, it's neither Writer's Block or burn out from the story itself. I'm still chugging along, just at about half the speed._

_My not-really-related fun fact for the chapter was that I got horribly jealous on my first playthrough when Monica showed up and stole Edelgard's attention. I didn't totally know she was a bad guy yet but I blamed her anyway when Edelgard rejected my tea invitation. I was also jealous of Leonie hanging around my father for no apparent reason. :)_

_Next chapter we'll take a step back to see what Blaise has been doing and how she got to Remire before moving forward._

_Thanks as always for reading!_


	20. Chapter 19

_A/N: This chapter has warnings for abuse/torture in the first half and a theme of self-deprecation in the second half. In regards to the former, I've no desire to write graphic scenes of such so it's more glossed over than anything but it's present nevertheless. As always, if anything gets uncomfortable PM me for the important details. I have also added my email to my profile page for guest readers._

Her captors explained next to nothing, but she knew they wanted something from her.

No… they expected something from her.

That first encounter with the mystery man in her prison, Blaise never understood. He said nothing beyond his initial welcome for many moments and she, eventually, let her body slip from the window to stand upon the ground. Her boots clapped against stone, the sound reverberating in the silence.

She watched him, of course.

Waiting.

Surely he didn't expect her to say the next words...

Blaise wanted to sit down as the silence stretched on, her eyes flickering to the chair now in the middle of the room. Her body ached, she was cold, and she felt unsteady on her feet, but she knew better than to relinquish what little respect she did have. She leaned against the wall instead, ignoring how the stone sucked the heat out of her body.

She stared back at the eerie yellow eyes washed in dark purple light.

"… Not impressed, I see," he sounded amused, and it grated on her nerves. His eyes raked her body from top to bottom. "Anselma will be pleased you made it this long... Or maybe not seeing as her daughter paid half the price."

Blaise grimaced. Who the hell was Anselma?

He studied her but, with a final smile of bared teeth, left. He took the light with him and the darkness enveloped her, her heart rate spiking as the organ hammered against her chest.

Metal clashed against metal as the door to her prison locked shut. The door rattled for another moment, and then she heard nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Except that constant drip of water somewhere she couldn't see.

It occurred to her all at once what was wrong.

She heard no Crests, there were no pulses in the air. None of that energy swirled around her much less flowed within her veins.

It was silent in a way she had never experienced and it was wrong.

Sure, Resonance had its downsides, it could be too noisy, maddening sometimes... but this... was just as bad. Too quiet, too empty, too vulnerable. Even when Rhea had told her not to rely on it, she hadn't felt this way. They had at least been around.

Was this what it was like for everyone else? Because it was very lonely.

Blaise strained to find the other Crests. She reached out her own.

Searching…

But she found none. How far away from them must she be? She could not recall a time she couldn't at least feel Balen.

Dejected, Blaise pulled hers back to her, coaxing it around in an embrace. It fought her, it wanted to find the others, wherever they were, but she pulled it tight as she slid down to sit at the base of the wall.

She needed it because she had nothing else.

Time had little to no meaning to her. Minutes could have been hours that could have been days. There was no change in the people's routine on the occasions Blaise dragged herself up to look out the window.

No one came to see her for what felt a very long time. She hardly even heard anyone walk by. She rarely heard any thing at all besides the dripping water which was the only reason she knew she hadn't gone deaf.

She wondered what Shambhala was.

She wondered if it really mattered.

She was certain some days had passed when Blaise came to the conclusion they didn't want her dead though they had a funny way of showing it. Her complete isolation ended when bread and water began to be shoved through the door at times that seemed totally random. Sometimes it didn't seem like it had been that long, but then other times she thought her stomach had started eating itself before they brought anything.

They cared naught for healing so Blaise sacrificed part of her cloak to secure her hand, simply hoping she'd managed to set it passably. She shuddered to think it would have to be broken again to be reset at a later date.

She overheard one conversation between a duo of guards that suggested the mystery man in charge of her was called Myson. How true it was, Blaise didn't know, but she referred to him as such in her head. She felt a bit less crazy that way.

Myson began to escort her with a group of underlings to two other rooms in the complex. The first was a kind of bathhouse, a tiny little room that had access to water. They locked her in there for an undetermined amount of time and would then take her back to her prison.

That second room...

Blaise didn't like that second room even more than her prison.

During her first experience she was shoved inside on her own, a thick metal gate shuttering closed behind her with an entire battalion of guards stationed on the other side.

She stood just in front of the gate, scanning what she could see in an attempt to gather her bearings.

It wasn't even really a room but more reminiscent of Garreg Mach's training grounds. It was as long as it was wide with hundreds of torches of the purple light making it dimly lit so Blaise could at least see a decent distance away. There was an overhang high up where Blaise could make out the shadows of people watching. There were only a few gathered to the right of her, the rest of the place empty.

There was a strange energy about the room, her skin prickling with static that had adrenaline kicking through her body. It felt vaguely familiar.

Familiar enough for Blaise to know she wanted a weapon.

She searched but found all of the weapon racks empty. Magic it was then. She felt it warm her hands, black magic at her fingertips ready should she need it.

Nothing happened for the longest time. Despite how stupid a thought it was, she wondered if they'd forgotten they'd put her in there.

It started as a grating sound from across the way, like another gate was being raised. Blaise lowered her stance, eyes fixated in the darkness. Then there was a roar that shook the walls and made her ears ring. Claws scraped stone, the floor shook with each step, red glowed from the dark, the energy around her intensified all at once.

She knew what it was before the black beast emerged from the farthest shadows.

Just like Miklan, the beast towered over her, it's scales reflecting the purple torchlight like armor. The red of a Crest stone embedded within the creature made her breath catch in her throat, it's power striking out at her wild and untamed now that it sensed her.

Blaise turned tail and ran because what in Fodlan's name was she supposed to do against that? It had taken both the Black Eagles and the Golden Deer to take down Miklan and, even then, it was really the fall that did it. Blaise was hardly in the best condition, and she didn't even have a sword.

Her captors didn't open the gate though she pointed and made frantic gestures. Annoyed and, admittedly, a little terrified Blaise threw herself against the gate, shoving her hand through an opening in a desperate attempt to find the latch.

All it got her was some kind of dark magic from one of the guards that made her feel of being stabbed in every direction. She nearly fell over in her haste to get away from the gate. She turned to the wall next thinking maybe she could scale it up to the overhang, but it was too smooth. There was nothing to hold onto, and she slipped before getting a couple of feet off the ground.

The roar of the beast told her quite plainly it had seen her and was quickly approaching.

Blaise turned on her heel, thoron crackling in her hand.

Maybe the spell would deter it.

It didn't, the black beast barely acknowledging the spell with a pause in it's approach. It had been a long shot, she knew. Dark saliva dripped from the beast's jaws, Blaise frozen as her brain seemed to have stopped processing.

She remembered the beast's claws catching her in it's grip. She remembered being crushed against the wall.

She was aware of nothing else until she woke up to the darkness of her prison.

Blaise lay there in a daze, listening to the drip of water. When she moved, it was cautiously. Her captors hadn't gone out of their way to heal much of her, but she wasn't dead so that was something, she supposed. Even as she moved, she couldn't determine what exactly hurt.

Maybe everything.

Her cloak was gone. Probably ripped to shreds.

The second time she was thrown into the room with the black beast Blaise barely managed a simple fire spell in defense before dark purple miasma spewed from it's maw and ate at her skin like acid. She saw the guards rush inside, drawing the beast away, before she lost consciousness and awoke again to the dark.

Her skin felt raw and extra sensitive. Her clothing, whatever they had her in, scratched with every movement, the stone floor was gritty, even water from the bath stung. The walls of the tiny bathhouse seemed to close in upon her, and she swore she nearly suffocated before they escorted her out.

They took her to a fourth room, three men forcing her onto a metal table. Clasps that felt of thick leather bound her wrists and ankles. Two other straps crossed her shoulders and hips, effectively keeping her motionless no matter how much effort she put into trying to move.

Blaise just tried to breathe, staring into the faint purple light because that was more comforting than the sight of medical tools and easier than contemplating what was about to happen.

"Add the magic restraints. I want no trouble from her," Myson ordered. He sounded vaguely bored this time.

Something cold and heavy slipped over her hands and clicked in place. It's weight dragged her wrists down, sending spasms through the one the Death Knight had shattered. Blaise sucked in a sharp breath, not that anyone seemed to notice. She tasted the sharp, metallic tang of blood as her nerves got the best of her, and she bit the inside of her lip.

"Are we certain this is the right one? Sloppy work is what got us in this mess to begin with," that was one of the men other than Myson. She called him Goon One.

"Nah, what got us in this mess was Jaq flappin' his mouth off to Anselma about the kid being wrong. Damn woman was emotional from just having her own. We'd have just killed it if she hadn't insisted otherwise," Goon Two complained.

There was that name "Anselma" again. She'd have to remember it.

"How the hell did she find Névé and get her down here anyways?" Goon Two continued. "Sounds fake to me."

"Hell if I know."

"If you two have finished gossiping, perhaps we can confirm what Solon believes about our friend here," Myson snapped.

Blaise could have snorted at the use of "friend." They hadn't even said a word to her this entire conversation when it was about her.

Some kind of contraption swiveled over her and she thought better of it.

Myson must have noticed her twitch from the anxiety as his irritation disappeared. "This should not take long," he stated.

It might have been reassuring had it not been for his smile.

A needle drew blood from one arm, drawing a hiss from Blaise at the sloppy workmanship. They certainly hadn't learned from Manuela. Myson passed the vial to Goon One who disappeared across the room.

A knife sliced fabric around her collarbone, the sharp edge of the blade irritating her burned skin but not quite cutting.

"There's no mark," Goon Two pointed out.

Goon One scoffed from a distance. "Thales is going to kill all of us for wasting time."

"Enough," Myson cut in. "Haven't you analyzed the blood yet?" he demanded.

There was some indistinct grumbling which Blaise supposed was a negative. She forced a breath through her lungs as the knife was switched to Myson's other hand, but he only sat it down on the table beside them. Despite the chill that was pervasive throughout this place, Blaise felt beads of sweat prickling at her hairline.

Would they just get on with it already?

As if he read her mind, Myson shifted the weird metal contraption over her and a humming filled her ears.

"We're in luck. She's got it after all," Goon One called from across the room. She couldn't see him, but he sounded significantly more pleased than he had moments before.

"Does she now?" Goon Two sounded intrigued.

A flicker of light flashed in Myson's hands. "Let's see what it takes to activate it."

Blaise wasn't quite sure what happened after that except for the steady stream of shock waves that racked her body, setting her nerves on fire and eliciting muscle spasms that had no where to go. She might have caught a glimpse of some kind of thunder magic, but she couldn't be sure. There was also what she thought might have been a flash of a silver blade and a renewed pain at her collarbone, but the humming of the contraption grew until it blocked out all her frazzled thoughts.

Eventually it all stopped, but she had long since gone numb from shock.

"Lucky for you, Névé. You get to live another day."

The words were distant. She didn't feel very lucky.

Her body was lifted from the table but everything else faded into nothing.

She awoke to strained muscles and the Crest of Chevalier carved into the skin above her heart. She finally figured out what they wanted, what they had been looking for. Fury made her tremble.

They could have just asked. It's not like she'd gone out of her way to keep her Crest a secret since Magdred.

Allowing her no respite from their abuse, they retrieved her from her cell and dragged her toward the black beast. She fought them every step of the way, not that it attributed to much in her broken state. They tossed her inside, and she barely kept her feet, stumbling just to stay upright. Her attempt at magic drew nothing. Her eyes flickered to the weapon racks. Empty. Not that she'd had much hope otherwise.

It hit her that she was thoroughly defenseless.

Her heart thumped painfully against her chest, and she raised a hand as if to steady it with false assurances. She physically recoiled as her hand grazed the mark they had given her.

But it also gave her an idea.

They had to keep throwing her in here for a reason, right? It had to do with the Crest. That was all they were interested in so far…

So she allowed herself to do what she had fought so hard not to do since she first met Catherine. She followed her instincts and jumped on the offensive the second she felt that volatile energy upon her. Blaise released her Crest where it shot across the darkness to the only similar entity it could find.

The black beast.

The heat that flooded her veins wasn't pure but sick and sluggish. The Crest of the beast intertwined with her own. It tried to suffocate hers, tried to spread like poison.

She drew on it anyways.

Blaise saw flashes of a grimacing, weathered man with eyes like emeralds that betrayed a softer side than his outward appearance. She caught a glimpse of an expanse of stars and felt herself draw forward.

She pulled harder.

She was in control this time, damn it.

Her ears rang with the deafening thump of each heartbeat. Tighter and tighter the pulses wound until hers was the one drowning the other. The unwanted visions faded and slowly, slowly, her own Crest forced the other under it's rhythm until it was smooth and docile.

Across from her, the black beast waited in the shadows. Unmoving and with the air of a faithful wyvern.

The gate behind her opened, the guards flooding the room. They escorted her out before the waiting Myson who grinned from ear to ear with a smile that reminded her of a cat about to pounce. She debated whether she'd rather stay with the beast. She snapped the Crest of Chevalier back to her, ripping it from the grasp of the beast.

A roar from the room shook the floor even this far out.

So maybe she didn't want to stay with it after all...

"Do tell Thales, our efforts may not yet be in vain," Myson ordered to one of the underlings without taking his gaze off of Blaise.

Whirling with the after effects of the impromptu Resonance, Blaise drew herself up, staring straight back as if she wasn't about to fall over any moment.

She filed the name "Thales" into the back of her mind.

~FE~

Blaise dreamt of Balen at her side, the two of them young mercenaries on a battlefield. They wore the same cloak, held the same iron swords, twins in every way except the length of their hair. It was no wonder opponents used to confuse them as the same "Ashen Demon."

This battlefield, however, was nothing they had ever seen in their mercenary days.

She was dreaming of dark beasts.

She was dreaming of screams Balen could not seem to hear. Why was it he couldn't hear them?

Blaise tried to ignore them, tried to push the shrill cries from her mind and focus on the battle before them. A beast fell upon them, met with a duo of iron swords that simultaneously moved separately and yet as one. It was quickly overwhelmed by the two mercenaries who knew each other's moves as well as they knew their own.

Balen charged after the next, Blaise on his heels. It faired similarly.

And the next.

After the third beast fell, Blaise was beginning to feel tired. She jolted after Balen, barely pausing for a breath, and jumped into battle against the fourth a couple of steps behind.

That distance grew with each beast until Blaise was barely making it to the battle before Balen finished it. Balen didn't pause. He continued on and on... and on.

At some point, Blaise hit the ground, gasping for breath and massaging her splitting head. She willed Balen to wait. She just needed a minute.

But, as seemed to be common of late, she didn't have the luxury of a minute.

The game had changed and a second beast was approaching Balen as he was still occupied with one. Fear struck her heart. Even Balen couldn't take on two at once, could he?

Blaise vaulted forward, nearly tripping over her own feet. She closed in only to realize she didn't have her sword. Had she dropped it when she paused to rest? She wasn't going to make it anyways, the second beast had raised its claws above Balen by now.

Stop. Stop!

Blaise threw her hand out but no magic escaped her palm.

But she stopped, rooted to the ground. And the beast stopped, frozen in place.

The incessant pounding in her head and the screams magnified until she could barely see through the halos in her vision. But she'd stopped the beast so at least Balen was safe.

"The Goddess demands penance..." Rhea's voice whispered in her ear though Blaise could not see her.

One beast fell to Balen.

"…you with the treacherous heart."

The second beast fell and Blaise felt her body release from the tension it had taken to stop it in it's tracks.

Balen swung his sword, no longer iron, but glowing red with power.

Blaise didn't comprehend it's direction until it hit her, impaling her through her left shoulder. Through the new mark that marred her body. She stared, unable to even blink.

Balen...

His eyes were Rhea's and they hated her.

"You will return to the dark, Névé. It is where you belong."

And so she did, waking again and again and again to the never-ending dark.

~FE~

She never had the same kind of success against the black beast as she had that one day. She was too tired, her body heavy with exhaustion.

Her next attempt found her unable to fight the beast's Crest back, and she was pulled into a vision of a field as light struck the land, consuming everything.

When she awoke, she felt sick like the beast still had a hold of her.

Blaise didn't bother moving and her captors had to start entering her prison if they wanted her anywhere else. Her uneaten rations of bread eventually attracted another host of unwanted visitors.

Rats.

Invisible in the dark except the beady yellow eyes that reminded her of her captors.

Blaise curled in to hide bare skin lest the rats find themselves unsatisfied with stale bread and turn to her. Still, their constant chatter brought her no end of distress.

It was one day when she was fading in and out of consciousness that everything changed. It started weak with distance, but it was a Crest's pulse nevertheless. Her Crest shot out to it, clinging and drawing... practically begging it to come closer.

She hadn't expected that it would.

Until it did.

Blaise snapped fully awake at the thought. She pulled at it, feeling just enough of it's energy come to her that she could rise and sit against the wall. Closer still it came and Blaise felt every muscle in her body tense with anticipation once she realized which Crest it was. Or Crests…

She was simultaneously relieved, betrayed, and horrified.

For once, she hoped Edelgard was the Flame Emperor. She'd rather have been betrayed than an innocent Edelgard become a captive as she was.

Blaise was jarred from her contemplations as the door to her prison swung open with a creak. Myson stood flanked with his usual group of underlings who scurried over to her, pulling her to her feet. They moved her along with surprising speed, out of her prison and down the hall in the direction of the Crest. Blaise had little arguments with such this time even as it became clear they were heading towards the beast.

She came face to face with the Flame Emperor on the grounds she had come to hate.

So the Crests of Edelgard and the Flame Emperor were the same after all.

She didn't quite know how to feel about it. After all, they didn't appear to be in chains, her captors even giving them a wide berth.

The kind of respect given allies.

The mask, oddly colored in the purple light, faced her for several heavy moments. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to glare or smile at them so she did nothing until they turned to Myson. "Do we have a deal?" Even behind the mechanical sound Blaise could hear the irritation.

Myson tutted, his grip on Blaise's arm tightening. "Always in such a hurry, Flame Emperor." He spat the name out with no effort at hiding the disdain. Blaise was surprised by that. Maybe ally wasn't the most appropriate word for their relationship. "No. If I deem your contribution worthwhile, only then may you have the prisoner."

"What, may I ask, is in question about my contribution?" the Flame Emperor snapped.

"One Névé for another. You expect me to believe you have in your grasp the true Névé and you would trade her for this?"

Blaise was shoved forward a step, stumbling at the abrupt push as several chuckles filled the silence. She'd have been offended at it all if she wasn't more concerned with what the implications of this conversation meant.

The... Flame Emperor was trying to trade for her? Realization was slow to dawn on her but, when it did, her eyes widened a fraction.

"Chevalier inhabits the ruins of Zanado..."

"Known information, Flame Emperor," Myson interrupted flatly, bored. "We've known she's holed herself up there for years. Knowing doesn't get her out."

The Flame Emperor paused for maybe half a second before they scoffed, "If you would allow me to finish, she has vacated in the past week or so."

Blaise felt Myson's intrigue through the air.

"To where?"

It made her feel sick, but it was nothing compared to how she felt when the Flame Emperor's mask shifted behind them. Blaise knew what that meant, spinning where she stood so fast her head spun.

The Nabatean stood at the gate, leaning against the frame. At first glance, Chevalier appeared as casual as could be, but there was a tension in the way she held herself that suggested otherwise. Her expression was hard, cold even.

Blaise used whatever strength was within her to bolt forward. Myson must have been too surprised at Chevalier's appearance to consider Blaise since he didn't stop her, and she made it to the other women with no resistance.

Blaise forgot to breathe as Chevalier turned her attention to her, her friend relaxing if only a smidge.

"My Névé," Chevalier's greeting was little more than a somber whisper, her thumb caressing her cheek and catching tears Blaise hadn't realized were there.

She leaned into the soft touch.

It was over much too fast, Blaise hardly even blinking before she was being pulled closer as Chevalier tensed once again. Blaise became aware of her captors shifting in the shadows, moving in half-circles like predators stalking prey. The Flame Emperor stood behind them as still as stone.

"Névé or Chevalier?" Myson spat out, eyes on Chevalier.

Blaise had a feeling the question went far deeper than it seemed.

Chevalier straightened but otherwise didn't move despite how they closed in upon them. "I am as Agarthan as I am Nabatean. Was that not what was wanted all those years ago?" she asked.

"You may have been born and raised Agarthan, but you embraced Nabatean. Your loyalty has always been suspect. What do you offer now that I should risk you over her?" Myson returned, sharply nodding at Blaise.

Chevalier's response came out in a hiss that echoed in the atmosphere. "Release the beast."

Blaise practically watched the gears turn in their heads, a silent consideration of what may or may not be gained by accommodating Chevalier's order. For her part, she wasn't too pleased, her heart rate spiking into her throat when Myson gave the nod to go ahead and an underling broke away. The sound of the farthest gate rising minutes later sent spasms of fear through her and it took everything she had not to bolt in the opposite direction. Blaise was certain that, if Chevalier hadn't been wearing her armor, her grip on her arm would be doing damage. Her Crest, likely mimicking her internal turmoil, went ballistic, inexplicably drawn to the Flame Emperor yet self-preservation wanting the beast to stay way over there.

She knew she didn't have the strength to keep it way over there.

Her decision was made for her as the Flame Emperor responded by drawing her Crest to them and she was lost in the flow. She'd forgotten how soothing it was.

Until the beast's roar jerked her back into reality. Only the Flame Emperor's stronger Crest kept her from pulling away and Chevalier drew her attention physically, Blaise losing herself in green eyes before the panic had a chance to set in.

Chevalier acted as if the beast wasn't even there, as if Myson and his goons were invisible, as if the Flame Emperor didn't exist in this moment. Her back was to them all as she faced Blaise, leaning forward until Blaise could feel her breath at her ear.

"I was Névé, the Goddess to end the Goddess, but she accepted me and I loved her instead. But I had the naïveté of a child and I believed my mother when she claimed peace. I allowed her in Zanado." A sharp intake of breath, she paused. "The Nabateans home became their grave and their spirits cried. I have heard every one. In my self-pity, I fled.

Until I was told of you... the child Agartha did not want. The one they saw no value in. They believed my Crest made you valuable, but it has only brought you sorrow. For that, I can only offer myself. My pain, my joy, my hurts, my comfort …"

Her voice shifted then into something vulnerable and raw. Blaise longed to pull back, to see if she was okay, except Chevalier was so soft spoken she worried even the slightest movement would render her inaudible. Blaise clung to every word like they were precious.

"…You are my greatest curse, my final regret..." she breathed, slowly prying Blaise's fingers from her arm. "…but also my star in the night..." Chevalier intertwined their fingers, holding tight, "... my hope in the storm, my dearest Névé… I will face judgement for all eternity if it will allow you to find peace where I could not."

Chevalier had nothing else to say to her.

Blaise could feel it as surely as if she had slammed a door in her face. Like whiplash, she was dazed.

For reasons she could not explain, Chevalier felt very far away.

In truth, the Nabatean barely moved except to finally face the black beast. The power in the room intensified all at once, Blaise practically suffocating in the brief moment before Chevalier drew it all to her. Blaise had to blink for Chevalier's hair had turned as silver as Edelgard's, her eyes the red of a resonating Crest stone.

It felt of Conand tower, of when the Lance of Ruin had turned upon her.

She wondered if she had looked that way as well, Caspar's description of a "glow" flitting through the back of her mind.

Because there was a "glow." Chevalier's Resonance wasn't normally something to be physically seen but now a stream of red snaked along Chevalier so bright it gave her hair the quality of fire. That same red enveloped the black beast and it froze.

Blaise felt herself breathe… only to realize it wasn't over yet.

The Crest of Chevalier lit the dark. A flash that was gone as suddenly as it was there.

The room shook as the beast's enormous form fell practically at their feet. The intensity in the room fell away as tendrils of black pulled from the beast, leaving behind the body of some unfortunate man.

And a Crest stone.

Shattered, mere inches away.

Blaise stared blankly at the broken stone as what remained of the red light fizzled into nothing, her thoughts wondering what it meant.

She didn't realize what was happening until she was being grabbed, jerked away from Chevalier by Myson. Even then, Blaise thought she was being taken away again and her fear came flooding back ten fold.

But then she found herself thrown straight into the Flame Emperor, arms wrapped in heavy armor keeping her upright.

"Your contribution is accepted, Flame Emperor."

The Flame Emperor made no response that Blaise was aware of. All she felt was a build of magic around them.

The last thing she saw was one of Myson's goons clamp a metal shackle around the wrist Chevalier offered them and then white light obstructed Blaise's vision.

She wasn't sure whether it was the light of the warp spell or of vertigo wrought from abuse and stress, but, either way, she was temporarily blinded as she was deposited some place much different from where she'd been.

She felt wind. Freezing wind rustling leaves and her hair. The occasional flurry of snow settled before melting against her bare skin. Blaise relished the feeling even if she quickly grew numb to it.

Half-bent over the Flame Emperor's arm unable to speak or see, she felt helpless.

To the Flame Emperor. To the elements. To everything.

Her nails scraped against armor, the last of her energy slipping from her grasp.

Her strength waning as it was, the Flame Emperor had two options. One, lower her to the ground. Two, pick her up. The hold was awkward as it was so Blaise fully expected the former and attempted to brace herself for the cold shock of snow.

She didn't expect the pulse of a Crest that made it possible for the Flame Emperor to easily get an arm under her knees and lift her back as she went limp. They walked several smooth steps with her, the sounds of twigs crunching beneath the weight of their boots.

"If you are able, I would appreciate any indication you are conscious."

The Flame Emperor had said something nearly identical when she'd fallen through the floor of the palace in Zanado all those months ago.

This time she did not try to answer.

The Flame Emperor picked up their pace. She could feel it in the way she was jostled with slightly more fervency than before.

Several minutes of silence passed and Blaise's vision began to settle. She watched the scenery pass her by. She gathered they were in a forest, but it didn't have the type of foliage Blaise would expect to see around the monastery. So … they were still some place else. The trees thinned and a few more minutes later they neared the edge, Blaise making out flat plains covered in snow and an expanse of cloud-covered sky.

The heavy clouds were probably a blessing. As much as she wanted to see the sun, her eyes already burned just from what natural light filtered down.

Her companion shifted their grip on her and she found herself sitting upon a log and facing said plains. Maybe they were somewhere in Faerghus? She wasn't an expert on the Faerghus terrain, but it was North of Garreg Mach which made snow and plains make sense.

It was a thought safe to think about at any rate.

A flash of red caught her eye.

The Flame Emperor had moved, one hand outstretched with his cloak in hand.

Blaise stared at it, uncomprehending.

"Take it." The offer, whether it was meant to be or simply a byproduct of the mechanical voice, sounded short. Like an order.

She fumbled to obey, the heavy fabric nearly slipping from her grip and falling into the snow. The Flame Emperor never quite let it go, however, until it was safely settled upon her shoulders. She hadn't quite realized she was cold until the cloak blocked snow and wind alike.

The Flame Emperor, satisfied, took a step away as they turned to scan the horizon. "There is a village to the South. We will find a medic, get food and supplies, a horse…"

Blaise tuned out the explanation. She got the feeling they were only saying it to fill the silence anyway and she wasn't in any position to be arguing. She pulled the cloak tighter around her, eyes on the ground.

They settled on a rock.

Nondescript. Gray in color.

But she imagined she saw red and it implode into pieces.

Chevalier had shattered a Crest stone with nothing more than her Resonance. What did that mean?

"What are you doing?"

The question jerked her back to reality and she raised her eyes from the intact, gray rock to look into the mask. Was she... doing something? Or did they just want to know why she was staring at a rock?

She blinked, imagining the mask gone.

Was Edelgard behind it?

Blaise shut her eyes and breathed out, willing herself to get a grip. She was beyond useless this way. She forced her raging emotions away: her fear and anxiety, her anger and frustration. She felt hollow, but steady, when she reopened her eyes to the Flame Emperor.

**_Why…?_ **

Why what, Blaise wasn't sure. Why did the Flame Emperor allow them to take her? Why did they come to get her? Why did they sacrifice Chevalier? Why were they here? Why did anyone want her? Why, why, why?

"… This was not my intention. You have my word that, had I known, I would have interfered. As it was, the Death Knight was not under my orders at the time, and you were gone well before I was made aware of the situation. Once I located you, I requested Chevalier's help. The plan was to satisfy them with her location in return for you, yet she failed to mention they already knew. There was little to be done once she revealed herself."

That was… something.

She wasn't sure it made anything any better, but it did help her pin down the real question.

Why are you involved, Flame Emperor? If this wasn't your intention then what was?

But she was tired and her head ached. She stood, slowly, carefully. She felt heavy as if she was the one wearing a mask and heavy armor. Rubbing the sides of her head, she contemplated that she should have listened to where they were going if only because she wished to rest. Maybe even forget for a few hours.

**_Sorry. Where are we going?_ **

"First, to the village of Kreaton. It is on the border of Faerghus and Adrestia though it is considered part of the Adrestian Lord Arundel's territory. From there, I will see you returned to Garreg Mach."

Oh.

Blaise would have thought she'd be happy to hear that.

Instead, anxiety prickled in her chest.

It obviously wasn't the reaction the Flame Emperor expected. She could practically feel them observing her, reading her.

"Does that suffice?" the Flame Emperor queried.

Blaise shrugged and then nodded because that was the answer they wanted.

The mask remained fixed upon her for several more moments before something that sounded like a sigh warbled through the mask. In the end, however, the Flame Emperor offered the sharpest of nods. "Can you walk? The village I was speaking of is not far."

Blaise nodded, whether she was confident in her ability to walk to the village or not, and took a step as if to prove it.

"Then let us depart. If we have minimal delays, you may reach Garreg Mach Monastery by evening tomorrow."

Tomorrow? They were that close? Her heart did a funny skip and not the pleasant kind.

The walk to the village distracted her from her internal discomfort with harsh winds buffeting Blaise from every direction. She kept slipping on snow until the Flame Emperor made it a point to walk alongside her at her snail's pace so they could catch her before she could fall.

Blaise inquired about their warping ability since it sure would be nice to just blink and be at the village or even Garreg Mach. She got an answer about having "maximized its use for the time being."

Of course. That would be too easy, after all.

She told herself not to complain. Who knows how far away her captors had held her. The Flame Emperor may have performed one hell of a warp just to get her this far.

As for the "Village" when they finally made it, Blaise thought it a very loose word for the place the Flame Emperor led her to. She supposed it was small enough in occupancy to be considered such but it was, by far, the wealthiest village she had ever seen. It was spotlessly clean with carefully maintained foliage, a magnificent fountain shot water into the air from within the village square, each building had unique, and expensive, architecture. Even the layer of snow looked picturesque in the way it had fallen. In the far distance, Blaise could see the top spires of a palace. Or maybe one could call it a mansion since it didn't look quite as big as Blaise imagined a palace normally was. She didn't see many people, probably because the weather was so cold. Interestingly, the ones she did see hardly looked twice at the armored Flame Emperor or the mess that had to be herself.

She was grateful.

They didn't go that far in, the Flame Emperor turning into one of the buildings just inside the square. A clinic, if the smell of medicine and herbs was anything to go by. She was ushered into another room almost immediately, beyond grateful to sit down. In a chair. With a cushion.

Blaise was less thrilled when it came to being examined. She didn't remember being hand shy, but she instinctively grabbed for a weapon she didn't have when a cleric or priest or whatever they were attempted taking her pulse. The glare she gave them must have clued them in as they moved slower and more deliberately, eventually settling on her injured hand.

They patched it up, dressing it in legitimate bandages, but that was likely as far as they were willing to go with her lest she make good on her glare.

They gave the age-old suggestion of food and rest.

The Flame Emperor echoed the sentiment and Blaise agreed to the food and the rest that come along with it. She didn't think the rest was long enough, but her companion seemed quite insistent on getting her to the monastery. So, once she determined she felt a fair amount more like herself after a bowl of soup, she agreed and they packed up a horse sturdy enough for the two of them since the Flame Emperor, rightfully, questioned Blaise's ability to handle one on her own.

She was grateful for that as well since she drifted off despite her better judgement. It was a light sleep. She did not dream nor did she feel refreshed when she awoke. The Flame Emperor made no effort at conversing with her once she did awake so Blaise watched the scenery slowly change around them, her thoughts tumbling so much her head quickly returned to aching.

She mostly thought of Chevalier along with an accompanying guilt that tried to smother her.

This was her fault, after all.

If she had been more careful, a better listener, a stronger fighter, all of this could have been avoided at one point or another. Instead, Chevalier had been forced to trade herself for Blaise's freedom.

And for what?

Blaise was weak. She couldn't do what Chevalier did. That was why her captors had been willing to trade her to begin with.

The Flame Emperor's offer of Chevalier for her and the subsequent laughter of her captors haunted her. It replayed again and again, echoing and filling her with a sense of shame. It built in the silence until it blossomed into anger and she spun on her companion, lashing out because that was easiest.

The Flame Emperor was such an idiot. They'd saved her out of what? Pity? Some sense of comradery?

**_You should have left me._ **

The Flame Emperor jerked away from the path at the sudden motion, the mask tilting toward her. They said nothing and she repeated her statement with an air of defiance even though she knew they had probably missed it initially. The mask shifted away again before they answered. "You act as if you know my objective."

If the Flame Emperor was Edelgard, then Blaise had a pretty good idea.

It made the politician's answer all that more annoying. She fought not to pull her hair out.

**_You realize you could have changed your entire situation if you had worked with Chevalier instead._ **

She wasn't exactly sure what said situation was but it had something about the Church and dispensing with the Crests. Specifics didn't matter though. Chevalier was so much better than Blaise and if the Flame Emperor had been thinking tactically...

They huffed, cutting off her train of thought. "You realize she would never have worked with me had you not been involved," they pointed out.

**_You did not need to save me for me to be involved. I would have been dead in the week. _**

Probably. They had to have been close to giving up on her. She'd hardly been able to stand for Goddess' sake.

And Chevalier would have still worked with the Flame Emperor. It did not matter it would have been out of vengeance. She would have been able to change everything and, instead, she was imprisoned while Blaise walked free.

Stupid.

None of it made a bit of sense.

"You do not understand as much as you think you do," the Flame Emperor argued after a brief pause.

Blaise crossed her arms and glared off in the distance.

At least that was something they could agree on.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable with Blaise sulking and the Flame Emperor giving off their own air of "knowing better."

Her first indication that something was wrong, well more wrong than everything else, was a smell of smoke on the wind. The hair on the back of her neck rose. The horse whinnied, cantering back a step despite the Flame Emperor's guidance.

The warrior clearly wasn't an expert at horseback.

That was info to be filed away for later when she wasn't worrying about a fire.

Blaise scanned the horizon, a plume of thick, black smoke rising into the already overcast sky. With a sinking heart, she realized she recognized the area not half a day away from Garreg Mach Monastery and there was only one village in their trajectory that she knew of.

Remire.

Her little spat with her companion was forgotten and she spun in the saddle a second time.

**_Go faster._ **

The Flame Emperor dug their heels into the steed and, with a sloppy jerk, it moved forward in a fast trot. But that didn't last long, Blaise watching as the horse's ears swiveled and flattened before their pace slowed again.

She could understand why when the first scream reached her own ears.

It was… truly horrific. Raw with terror, growing hoarse towards the end before it cut off too abruptly to be natural.

Blaise had slipped from the horse before her brain caught up with her actions. She only really noticed when she was ankle deep in snow and she struggled to hike through it. The Flame Emperor dropped from the horse in front of her and strode towards the village with all the confidence Blaise expected from the masked warrior. She followed in their wake, the partially cleared path they made easier to traverse.

The Flame Emperor's hand rose to their axe and it detached from it's clasp with a 'click.'

Blaise wished she had a weapon though she doubted she'd be capable of carrying a sword, much less wielding one in battle.

Add that to her ever-growing list of frustrations…

The screams and cries grew louder and more numerous as they approached the outskirts of the village. The first sound of deranged laughter made Blaise's skin crawl and her stomach churn. It wasn't long before the atmosphere physically changed, the air too warm and full of smoke that forced Blaise to stop as she doubled over in a fit of coughing.

The Flame Emperor led her in an arc around the edge of the village until they were downwind of the smoke and Blaise could breath a little easier.

People were fleeing in every direction, paying the two of them no mind.

Blaise made her first mistake when they crossed that first boundary wall that signaled their entrance into the town. She allowed herself to be distracted, finding herself glued to her spot, eyes wide and horrified as the seamstress she had once known attempted to strangle another villager. Ms. Delia had always been friendly and patient with Blaise but now… her eyes were bulging and bloodshot, her knuckles white from her unrestrained grip, her face twisted in some primal glee.

The villager beneath her, another woman, was screaming, clawing desperately in some attempt to save herself.

Blaise raised a hand to Sign to her companion, only to find the Flame Emperor was nowhere to be seen. She hesitated, spinning a circle but seeing little more than smoke and villagers of varying sanities.

Okay. She was alone. Without a weapon.

But she was fine.

Fine.

She had grown up a mercenary, damn it.

Heart pounding in her chest despite her internal pep talk, Blaise rushed over to the seamstress and her victim because how could she walk off when people were literally killing each other feet away?

Ms. Delia's attention was not difficult to get, Blaise barely clamping her hand on the woman's shoulder before the seamstress turned on her. The action was so fast, Blaise was caught thoroughly off guard and didn't manage to block the woman's attack. Backhanded, she was sent reeling to the ground. She caught a glimpse of the other woman rushing off in a mad panic… leaving her.

That realization terrified her more than she thought it should.

No time to think further on it, Blaise was forced into grappling to keep her opponent's hands from her neck. She wasn't the best brawler in Fodlan by any means but she was tough. She had learned hand to hand at a young age.

Yet she was losing.

Had Delia always been this strong? Was Blaise just this weak?

She rolled, once, twice, three times to dislodge the woman's hold upon her, never quite successful at escaping. Delia had her weakened arm pinned, tendrils of pain shooting up and down from her wrist. Blaise, in some last ditch effort, yanked on the Flame Emperor's Crest just managing to keep her opponent's second hand at bay.

Delia's laughter didn't belong to her.

It was over quickly, Blaise catching a glimpse of black from the corner of her eye before a large axe swung over her, simultaneously freeing Blaise and ending the crazed woman's suffering. Blaise had barely comprehended her safety before the Flame Emperor was dragging her off the main path and throwing her against the wall of a home.

"Imbecile. I did not rescue you from Those Who Slither just so you could throw your life away a day later," the Flame Emperor snapped.

Blaise blinked, oddly detached from their disapproval.

Instead, she chided herself for...losing. What mercenary couldn't handle a single villager?

**_I knew her._ **

That was better than admitting how far she had fallen.

The Flame Emperor shifted, shoulders sagging until they appeared no more imposing than a defeated soldier. "Be that as it may... she was not the woman you knew. I am afraid this curse has gone too far for either of us to remedy." Their gauntlets clenched around the shaft of their axe.

This was a curse? Why would someone use dark magic on Remire Village? It was just a village. Nothing special...

Except...

Blaise grit her teeth against the sudden nausea.

It was them making a statement. Those Who Slither, the Flame Emperor had just called them. Agarthans, Chevalier had said.

**_Is this because of me?_ **

"No. This appears to have been long in planning," the warrior stated.

Blaise noted the drop in volume around them, an absence of cries. She wasn't sure whether it was better or worse.

**_Did you know?_ **

She knew the Flame Emperor was glaring at her when the mask tilted. "It may be true that I have allied with them, but that does not mean our objectives are the same. Judge me as you will for that, but neither you nor this village ever should have been involved with them." They turned away, straightening back to their full height. They spoke again in such a low whisper Blaise had to wonder whether she was supposed to hear it or not. "If I could do this without them then I… but, no, it matters not. My power alone is insufficient."

Insufficient?

She pressed back into the wall, raising her eyes to the gray sky above.

Oh how she understood that feeling...

"Leave."

Blaise jerked in surprise at the order. At the sudden coldness to their tone.

Leave? Now?

"The fight is over. The Golden Deer and Jeralt the Blade Breaker of Garreg Mach Monastery along with any survivors are congregating on the western edge of what remains of this village. You can see them from here."

Blaise stared, her legs, for some reason, feeling of lead.

The Golden Deer and her father? She believed the Flame Emperor. She could feel them, multiple Crests pulsing around her though none more so than the one before her. Even Balen's... meant nothing captured as it was to his weapon.

It was sudden when the masked warrior lashed out, Blaise recoiling at the movement though they only grabbed her by her wrist and tossed her out into the street. "Leave," they ground out through gritted teeth.

She didn't. Instead, hovering awkwardly among the broken and empty street.

Silence bore down on her, ash falling like rain.

She didn't want to leave.

It was as horrifying a realization as she had ever had because it made no sense. Why would she be afraid to go back to her family but not be afraid of the Flame Emperor who was wrapped up in so much she should be terrified of?

The answer was the same as it had always been since she had first started down this road.

Disappointment. She couldn't stand to see it. Not on them. Not on the Black Eagles. Not even on Rhea and Seteth.

And now she was still her, but also weak and bruised and hurt. What would they think when they saw her broken?

The mask the Flame Emperor wore was apathetic. Safe. Hell, they had already seen her.

Don't make her leave now. Please, she needed to know where the truth ended and the lies began.

Her fingers fumbled in her haste to Sign.

**_What is your objective?_ **

Why were they involved?

A spell of fire lit the Flame Emperor's hand, but Blaise, in a fit of desperation, ignored it.

**_Tell me who you are._ **

Were they Edelgard? Because Blaise had a memory from that night following Miklan's demise.

_My power alone is insufficient._

She'd said that to Hubert before he left and it was just the two of them.

… She'd sat across from Blaise that night and said they would know what was lost. The two of them. Edelgard and Blaise.

Blaise shoved her hand out before her, drawing her Crest forth. Begging, pleading.

The answer she received was nothing more than the spell of fire tossed haphazardly in her direction. Blaise winced, her flight response kicking in so that she half ran, half stumbled toward the western edge of the village, her Crest dissipating into nothing. A glance over her shoulder and she saw a flash of light that was the Flame Emperor warping away again.

Leaving her.

Blaise slowed, feelings of loss and loneliness nearly overwhelming her. Rejection burned like fire in her very being. Weakness pulled her down and fear made her chest ache. Alone in the destruction as the darkness of night began to blanket her...

She pushed them away into the dark recesses of her mind until she felt numb. Until everything was distant and out of reach.

Only then did she turn to the west.

She had no answers. Maybe she didn't deserve them.

Blaise trudged on as well as she could between maneuvering fires and fallen buildings. She followed that deafening pulse of Balen's captured Crest, tripping over rubble as she went.

Blaise heard her father before she saw either him or Balen, his warning giving her pause as she debated if he would attack her from a distance.

There was nowhere left to go so she squared her shoulders in some attempt to look better than she felt and resumed her approach. She traversed a final pile of coal-lined rubble, the haze of smoke clearing so she could make out three shapes.

She stopped, her tentative control failing her.

What was wrong with her? The Flame Emperor rejected her. This was all there was left. She had to face them as she was.

Still, she had the inexplicable urge to look over her shoulder anyway, to turn around and go back the other way. She didn't only because she knew the Flame Emperor wasn't there. When she blinked again and forced her attention on her family before her, Balen was approaching her with hurried, assured steps, the Sword of the Creator clasped in an iron grip.

Her breath caught in her throat and she instinctively moved to caress the new scar on her chest.

Blaise was Névé. Maybe not the true Névé but the bearer of her Crest nevertheless. The spawn of the Goddess to end the Goddess. Rhea knew. Of course she had to know but did Balen?

Should she run after all?

But the sword dipped as he neared, the blade dragging the ground.

Blaise stood rooted to her spot, struggling to twist her features into a smile if only out of instinct that maybe she would live longer.

She didn't expect him to smile back.

If she'd had a weapon, it would have slipped from her hand. As it was, something within her broke, her vision glazing as she vaulted forward.

The Sword of the Creator clattered as it hit the ground, but she didn't care. She didn't think Balen cared either because he didn't let her go as she buried her face in his neck.

Her Crest reached out to his for the first time since he'd acquired that sword. It was familiar, comforting, and grounding. She breathed in deep, drawing on it as if it was a lifeline.

Still, in the back of her mind, a thought prickled.

It wasn't the symphony of Edelgard's Crests.

It wasn't safe, the Sword of the Creator only at their feet could sever her from her brother.

It was… insufficient.

And it wasn't fair.

She clung to Balen tighter even as she shifted the Flame Emperor's cloak around her.

_Return to the dark, Névé. It is where you belong... you with the treacherous heart…_

Blaise screwed her eyes shut, hoping, somehow, she would wake up from whatever nightmare she was lost in.

_A/N: __Whew, okay so the first half wrote itself quite easily. The problem was the second half because I couldn't quite get the dynamic between the Flame Emperor and Blaise right. I rewrote it at least six times in the past four days._

_Blaise is much more lost and vulnerable in this than in the original version I had but she's kind of had it rough. We have her clearly not feeling well, her inferiority complex takes another hit, she loses Chevalier who was her most grounding and empathetic supporter, there's a significant disconnect between her and her surprising savior, and she's confirmed an uncomfortable tidbit of information that she knows puts her in a tough spot with Rhea/the Church._

_Edelgard, as always, feels guilty and, as always, makes it worse for herself and anyone else involved by falling back on the Flame Emperor persona and enforcing distance in the least empathetic way she possibly can._

_But Chevalier though... Is she really a Goddess? No. Is Sothis really a Goddess? I don't think so. Neither are truly omnipotent, omniscient, etc. What I tried to do was a more yin/yang approach. Sothis is fire with the Crest of Flames. I chose Chevalier the snow dragon over ice because snow is softer than ice and I thought that a better representation of the dynamic I wanted portrayed.__More to come on Chevalier's exact relationship with both Sothis and the Agarthans._

_To think I thought the step back in the story wouldn't take a whole chapter... I should know better. Blaise talks a lot for not being able to talk. We'll move foward **next** chapter._


	21. Chapter 20

She felt exposed.

Even within Balen's embrace she could feel the number of eyes watching her steadily growing as the seconds ticked on. A peek over her brother's shoulder confirmed a number of Golden Deer students returning with small groups of survivors. Claude met them, whispering something, and their gaze inevitably flickered to them.

She ducked back, shielding herself even as she pushed Balen back a step.

She was fine. Not even crying anymore.

And he was needed.

Her father was waiting anyways, having abandoned his horse where he had been in favor of drawing to Blaise's side. She looked up into blue-grey eyes which hid such a myriad of emotions, Blaise couldn't name any of them.

"Balen…" her father's voice was rougher than she remembered. He held her gaze like he couldn't look at her enough despite speaking to her brother. "Gather everyone you can find together. We'll be leaving in ten."

It took a moment where Blaise thought Balen might just argue, but her brother nodded and, with a final glance at Blaise, leant down for his sword. Blaise recoiled, physically jumping a full step back while jerking her Crest back to herself before he could touch the blade. Some measure of shame returned over her reaction though neither her father or Balen acted as if they noticed.

Jeralt, instead, knelt so he no longer towered over her, Blaise eyeing his hand as it reached for her, but he only ran his fingers through her tangled hair in an action that was half-caress and half-tousle.

"You look rough, Kid," he whispered. It was an attempt at lightening the mood but simultaneously sad and angry and relieved all in one messy bundle. His thumb shifted over her cheek and Blaise could feel the dull ache of a bruise despite the soft touch. "Leonie," his voice rose in a command.

"Captain?" Leonie responded without delay.

"Ride ahead and tell Manuela I am bringing my daughter straight to the infirmary."

"On it, Sir!"

Blaise caught a glimpse of Leonie swinging herself up into her saddle before she was once again drawn by her father's movements as he stood. His hand moved to her back, lightly encouraging her forward.

She dug her heels into the ground.

Too many eyes watching, waiting, judging. Her fingers dug into the Flame Emperor's cloak as she ducked her head to hide behind a curtain of her hair. She pretended not to notice her father pause to consider her, pretended she found the ash-covered debris at her feet fascinating.

A low whistle sounded from beside her, her father calling his steed to them instead.

The familiar mare answered immediately. She trotted forward, shaking her great head as she stopped in front of Jeralt with a whinny.

Blaise felt a little better hidden behind the steed and allowed her father to help her into the saddle which he then followed. She settled back against him, resting and doing her best to hide from prying eyes.

They moved out with them in the front, the villagers behind, and the Golden Deer on the outskirts. Balen maneuvered around until he walked beside them, his attention on Blaise alone.

She wished he wouldn't stare.

It made their arrival at Garreg Mach a welcome relief. The marketplace was bustling when they passed through the gates with Knights having clearly been positioned to help funnel villagers to different areas for healing.

She felt lost in the flow, invisible.

"Captain!"

Or not.

"Not now, Alois," her father grunted and, in a show of exactly how masterful he was at horseback, easily led his steed past a now-gaping Alois. Through the mass of people they weaved until they had broken past the crowd and the horse could pick up speed. They had lost Balen and the rest of the Golden Deer or maybe the class of students just had to regroup before being dismissed.

Either way, it was just her and her father when they made it to the stairwell and Jeralt dismounted. He lifted her off and it became quite apparent he wasn't going to set her down. A part of her was relieved because there were so many stairs, but the other part of her berated her need.

Reduced to... this. An invalid or a child, she wasn't sure which she preferred.

Manuela was ready and waiting in the infirmary which was, blessedly, empty. She directed them towards the back where the beds with the privacy screens were located and Blaise felt her heart squeeze.

Long-term care.

But at least visitors wouldn't be able to stare at her all the time.

She had barely been settled on the bed when Manuela swooped over her, starting with checking the dilation of her eyes and working her way down. She barely lingered in any one spot whether it was a bruise, a laceration, a broken bone, or any other such ailment, but Blaise had the distinct feeling she didn't miss a single discrepancy and noted every one of them. Manuela spoke casually as she worked, filling the silence with an oddly soothing chatter Professor Hanneman would call needless.

And it really probably was needless as Manuela rambled about a sword dance she'd performed at Mittlefrank Opera back in her youth, but it was safe.

For the both of them.

Blaise could see the evidence of her distress in the lines around her eyes and the way they constantly flickered to meet Blaise's.

She must look utterly horrid.

It took five minutes for Manuela to convince her father to step back behind the privacy screen so Blaise could change into a fresh gown. That in and of itself turned into quite a situation when Manuela attempted to help Blaise out of the Flame Emperor's cloak and something snapped within the distressed former mercenary.

She spun, her muscles winding tight in a way not unlike a cornered cat while her fists clenched the heavy, red fabric.

In a show of exactly why Manuela was the head physician of Garreg Mach, she responded immediately with a step back and some soothing words until Blaise calmed down enough that Manuela could coax her into changing, all the while allowing Blaise to cling to the cloak for security.

It was dragged back into the bed with her as Manuela ushered her to relax.

Not that she was able to relax much.

Even with her father returned to her side, it wasn't easy for Manuela to coax her into allowing an IV drip. Then came a rather aggressive treatment of white magic.

It was odd. White magic was usually soft, refreshing, and warm but, when concentrated throughout the entire body, was beyond uncomfortable and even painful where it lingered to repair what was broken.

Despite it all, she was feeling quite sleepy with a growing numbness by the time Manuela ceded the white magic and lifted her weakened wrist. A part of her knew they were going to have to reset it. She knew it hadn't healed right. She knew that was what was about to happen before her father shifted her to look in the opposite direction, his forehead creased with worry.

"She will not feel a thing, Jeralt," Manuela's words were distorted by a haze.

Ahh… that's what this was.

She must have put something in the IV besides fluids.

Her father said something or maybe it was a simple grunt of acknowledgement.

Blaise had to agree as her vision faded to black and she slipped into unconsciousness. She couldn't feel anything through the haze.

She didn't mind.

~FE~

When Blaise awoke, she heard voices. They were nearby and a little loud yet distinctly low as if they were attempting to be quiet. She opened her eyes to the light of day, an experience that was somehow foreign despite doing so her entire life other than the past...?

How long had she been in the dark again?

She could have groaned as she forced herself to scan the room for… enemies? Allies? She wasn't sure of that either.

Blaise recognized the voices now.

Her father and Rhea, disagreeing on something if she had to wager a guess. Probably something to do with herself.

"- needs to rest. Manuela's orders," her father's gravelly voice carried to her from the other side of the privacy screen.

"I understand your concern, Jeralt. I have no intention of interfering with her healing, but we must gather whatever information she knows lest our enemies make another attempt upon her or another," Rhea insisted.

Yes, definitely her.

Blaise's eyebrows furrowed at the statement and she felt her muscles ache at the very thought of that conversation.

She was so tired.

"They've been having the same argument for hours."

Blaise winced, snapping her head around to find Balen seated on a chair at her bedside. He leaned forward, his expression as blank as it had been as when they were growing up. What was different, however, was that he must have been able to read the anxiety on her face since he continued speaking, "I don't think father or Manuela will allow Rhea back here yet."

That was a relief.

Blaise dropped her head back on the pillows in favor of staring at the ceiling. It was white. Not much to see really.

That was fine. Balen was clearly feeling unusually talkative and that was more than enough stimulation for her.

"Manuela won't let anyone back here. The Black Eagles had to give me letters to bring you until they are allowed to visit. They're on the table."

She tilted her head to her side table where, sure enough, a stack of parchment rested. She felt kind of strange, like she didn't really care to read them, but she still slid the letters into her lap anyway. Blaise picked absently through, searching for one in particular though she wouldn't admit it to herself.

Balen knew her too well, she realized. He reached out, his hand resting upon hers so that she stopped shuffling and looked up into blue eyes as familiar as her own. There was something there. Sympathy maybe.

She knew she wasn't going to like what he had to say.

"Edelgard had to withdraw a few weeks after you went missing. She and Hubert returned to Enbarr to care for her father," he admitted.

Blaise stared at him and the moments ticked by in a suffocating silence.

_**She's not here?**_

Balen shook his head.

Oh...

She glanced down at the letters spread across her lap, rejection returning to sting seemingly every part of her. Her eyes burned.

_**I wasn't looking for one from her.**_

A lie. Obviously.

Balen said nothing as he gathered each letter up with care and returned them to a neat pile on the table. "She left an invitation to Enbarr for you and Dorothea said she would send a letter to her to let her know you're safe. She'll write back. Claude seemed to think she left so she could use Imperial resources to find you."

Blaise blinked, eyes invariably flickering to the red cloak at her side.

Another myriad of complicated feelings swelled within her as Balen pulled an official scroll from his cloak. She took it anyways, curling her fingers around it in a delicate fist. It's weight was somehow soothing in it's own right.

Balen opened his mouth to say something further only for Manuela's voice to cut through. "If all you two are going to do is bicker, then take it elsewhere. I have patients to take care of and they do not need you disturbing them. Go on. Get out," she ordered.

"My daughter-"

"Has Balen. Come back when he leaves," Manuela interrupted.

"Manuela, surely you understand the necessity-"

"I do and it can stand to wait another day or two," the physician argued.

It was… actually a bit amusing to hear Manuela kicking out the Archbishop and one of the top knights and Blaise quirked the barest of smiles. She suddenly realized how much she'd missed Manuela.

She heard some departing footsteps moments before Manuela stepped around the screen, brown eyes immediately meeting blue. Manuela huffed as she fell upon Blaise. "The nerve of those two, no doubt disturbing your rest. I should ban them returning for such selfish-"

"Blaise woke up on her own," Balen cut in.

Manuela glared at him from over Blaise. "Yes and you were supposed to tell me immediately. Consider yourself lucky, I'm allowing you to stay. If the alternative wasn't Jeralt who I just kicked out..." she left the grumbled threat hanging in the air.

Balen was unfazed.

Manuela huffed a second time before giving Blaise her full attention. "How are you feeling, dear?" she inquired, tone softening.

Exhausted, hurt, angry, sad, frightened... It was a convoluted question.

_**Fine.**_

"Are you sure? Your pulse is high," Manuela stated, her lips pressed into a thin line that told Blaise she didn't believe her.

Blaise didn't grace the question with any further response. Manuela was perfectly capable of understanding what wasn't said.

Sure enough, the physician made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat as she continued her ministrations. "You're healing nicely. Your bruising is down, most lacerations won't leave so much as a scar, I reset your wrist and ..." she paused to lift said wrist, coaxing Blaise to move each finger one at a time, "... it'll be a while yet, but you should be back to swinging a sword." Manuela sighed, stepping back and considering Blaise with a frown. "Honestly, your physical condition has improved beyond my expectations," she admitted.

Blaise didn't miss the emphasis on the word "physical."

It must have flown right over Balen's head, however, as her brother leaned forward again. "She'll be able to leave the infirmary then?" he asked.

Manuela glanced at him, one finger tapping her lip. "There are a few other expectations before then. For one, I expect to see her eating consistently. Perhaps you would fetch something for her from the Dining Hall? Not a lot, something light. Just ask the chef for something suitable," Manuela suggested in such a way that left little room for Balen to argue.

Not that Balen was prone to arguing. He did look to Blaise, however, before giving the slightest of nods and leaving without another word.

Blaise was hyperaware how Manuela stared her down as the sound of Balen's footsteps echoed and faded. It made her fidget with nerves. The former Songstress seemed to age a few years in minutes as she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed.

"You had me and the kids worried sick."

Blaise grimaced with guilt.

_**Sorry.**_

Manuela laughed and it sounded strange. Bitter. "You are the last person who needs to apologize," she assured. With a shake of her head, she slowly reached out to point at Blaise's left collarbone. "That one has not improved with white magic. It will likely scar," she admitted softly.

Blaise brushed a finger over the Crest of Chevalier they had marked her with. She wasn't surprised.

"It isn't my place to ask for details, but my experience is that it does help to work through unpleasant… memories. I will not be able to hold the Archbishop off for long once you start leaving the infirmary, and she will not be as considerate. If you want to talk, I will be happy to listen anytime and, if you agree, I would also like to allow the girls to visit you."

Blaise nodded without thinking much into it.

No, she wasn't going to Sign or write what happened out and she wasn't in the mood for visitors but... she could suffer through the latter. Manuela had said they'd been worried and that was the least she could do for them.

"Perhaps this evening then?" she suggested.

Again, Blaise nodded.

Manuela was silent, waiting as if she expected something more, but, eventually, she rose. "I'll let you rest. Your brother should be back soon."

Manuela was halfway out of Blaise's makeshift room when Blaise jerked forward, snapping her fingers for the physician's attention. Manuela paused her retreat and looked over her shoulder at her.

_**Balen said Edelgard left.**_

Blaise didn't know what she wanted Manuela to say. It wasn't like she believed Balen had been lying to her...

Manuela's features shifted and Blaise was certain her expression was sympathy. "She did. Dorothea is reaching out to her so she knows you are safe."

Right.

Except Edelgard did know. Probably.

"I was here in the Infirmary myself, but I hear she was quite distressed and went on many search patrols with Jeralt. She will be relieved to know you are safe."

It was meant to be reassuring but Blaise felt kind of like her chest was being crushed as she collapsed back against her pillows and threw an arm over her eyes. She heard Manuela leave and she was grateful to be alone.

~FE~

Blaise was given the okay to leave the infirmary in but a few days with the condition that she take it easy. She knew she looked significantly better than when she arrived, not least of which because Dorothea, Petra, and Bernadetta dragged the want to at least appear better out of her.

Still, she didn't leave.

She didn't like what she heard had changed in her time away. Edelgard and Hubert withdrawn while some cheery, red-head hung around instead. Dorothea expressed some concern regarding this "Monica's" attitude being over-dramatic, Petra stated she moved like a shadow, and Bernadetta was downright terrified of garnering any sort of attention from her.

And, granted, Bernadetta's reaction was expected.

It didn't change the fact Blaise didn't like Monica even before Petra let slip the red-head had always pulled Edelgard away outside of class.

At that, the very thought made her blood boil.

Because Monica was suspicious...

…Obviously that was it. Nothing more, nothing less.

…

…Dorothea had been quick to change the subject.

Apparently, Manuela had been injured by Jeritza shortly after Blaise had been taken so Jeralt and Alois had been fill-in teachers. Bernadetta seemed to have handled that transition relatively well although everyone was ecstatic to have Manuela back.

And Blaise, Dorothea insisted, not so subtly broaching the subject of Blaise's return to the Black Eagles.

Blaise said she didn't feel well and tried to ignore the rather crushed looks from the students.

The Battle of the Eagle and Lion had been postponed as well which Blaise wasn't the most familiar with, but she could appreciate the gravity of Rhea changing her mind about something. Hell, the woman had insisted on continuing with the Rite of Rebirth with a potential assassination attempt hanging over her head.

The Archbishop was another source of anxiety for Blaise. She had yet to make another attempt to visit, but Blaise worried the second she set foot outside the infirmary, the Archbishop would be all over her.

And Blaise wanted to talk to her the least of everyone.

She was worrying people. Her father, Balen, Manuela, the Black Eagles. She knew that. How often in her life had she chosen to sit in bed all day when she could wander, explore, get herself into trouble? No one had probably known she was even capable of staying in one place for so long.

But what could she say? She'd gotten used to waiting and at least it wasn't always dark here.

In the end, Blaise wasn't allowed to wallow, no matter how much she resented being forced out before she wanted to be. Seteth was the one to break the news to her about a week after her return. The Advisor invited himself in, delivering a request for her presence to a meeting on "the next course of action." She'd been given a strict timeline. Jeralt would pick her up in an hour and she was expected to look presentable.

Presentable was a matter of perspective, but she still tried.

If she had to put herself out there... she was more likely to be left alone if she gave the impression she was fine.

Blaise brushed her hair, inquired Balen to find her some new light armor and a sword while Manuela secured the regular clothing underneath. By the time, Jeralt picked her up, Blaise appeared much the same as she always had save for the dark crimson cloak over her shoulders, the brace still on her wrist, and being quite a bit thinner.

Jeralt considered her through narrowed eyes. Blaise forced a smile that may or may not have been convincing since he sighed and placed a hand against her back, gently leading her forward.

To the Audience Chamber.

Past statue after statue of the Goddess who she swore was watching her, accusing her.

She tried to ignore the growing fear deep inside.

"Kid," her father's call and the subsequent stop in their walk caught her off-guard. He steered her toward the Captain's Quarters, shutting the door behind them. "I want to talk to you first," he admitted.

She hesitated, eyes flickering over her shoulder at the door, but then nodded.

"I owe you an explanation long overdue..." Jeralt paused, letting out a breath that was half-grunt, half-sigh. It stretched for a significant moment where he stared out the window in an unfocused sort of way.

It made Blaise slightly concerned about what he had to say.

When he met her gaze again, he held it steady. "…I left the Knights of Seiros nearly twenty one years ago, shortly after your birth. Your mother... was a nun here. She passed during childbirth and is buried here at the monastery. I started a fire and disappeared with you and Balen in the chaos."

Blaise blinked. This year had been nothing but secrets and reveals and her father had been no exception when it came to his past with the Knights of Seiros… When it came to her mother. It was hard to be surprised anymore.

But a fire? Why couldn't he just leave? Why did he even want to leave when he had two young children? Two babies? A mercenary's life was an interesting choice.

She tilted her head.

_**You started a fire?**_

Jeralt rubbed the back of his neck. "Balen… was always an odd child and Rhea was… attentive. There was something I didn't know. I knew that so I consulted a trusted individual, a doctor, and, what I learned, terrified me. I doubted, still doubt, Rhea would allow me to walk away with him."

So Rhea had a thing for Balen even then...

But why? What was so special about her brother? The only thing she could think of was the Crest of Flames, but surely this wasn't all over a Crest no matter how rare it was.

The mention of a doctor stood out to her.

But there wasn't anything really wrong with Balen. He was just Balen. Closed off and impassive much of his life but that wasn't a disease.

"I thought at first she hired sellswords to return Balen. There were many attempts in the beginning, when the two of you were young. All aimed for him… until one morning I awoke to rain on my face, the cloth of the tent ripped by a blade, and Balen alone on the bedroll the two of you shared." His voice cracked, his sentence cutting off abruptly.

Blaise felt her blood run cold as the conversation turned toward her.

_**They took me.**_

Her father grunted. "Do you remember?"

_**No.**_

But she'd heard it multiple times now and she was glad she didn't remember. How terrified had she been as a toddler to be taken into such a dark place? She dared not follow that train of thought any further.

"You were... different when you returned," Jeralt admitted.

… Different?

Blaise scrunched her eyes at the word before calling forth her Crest in her hand. She watched her father consider the shadow of Chevalier. Watched him nod and reach out to curl her fingers inward until it disappeared.

For some reason, she felt even colder.

"I have never been so worried, Kid."

She made no effort to reply. She didn't know what to say.

"I've been questioning whether returning to the monastery was the right course of action, whether I should have ever left to begin with," he admitted. "Many would say it foolish to raise two children in a life as a mercenary, that remaining would have been stable and better for you."

What would it have been like being raised at Garreg Mach? Would she still have been given the Crest of Chevalier? Would she still feel haunted by the Church's judgement?

_**You regret it?**_

She didn't think she wanted him to regret it.

She loved Chevalier and how could she have loved her under the roof of the Church?

"I tell them where a child may have learned honor, loyalty, and faith, my daughter is bold, independent, and fierce. You have proven time and time again that you can thrive amidst adversity. I will never regret that."

Blaise dropped her gaze to her feet. She didn't feel much like she was thriving. Surviving maybe... by tooth and nail... walking along a precipice she was likely to slip upon.

Her father's hand cupped her cheek, gently raising her face up from the ground until she looked at him. "Remember that, won't you, Kid? No matter what," he implored in a whisper.

She nodded.

She would remember.

Even if she didn't believe it.

Jeralt smiled, squeezing her shoulder. "Come. We should hit up that meeting before Seteth searches us out."

Blaise smiled, just a little, at that and fell in step the remaining short distance to the Audience Chamber. She was led through the chamber to another room she'd only been in once before when Rhea had called the meeting following the Black Eagles being attacked at Magdred. There was a long table with many chairs on every side. She was surprised to find both Professors Hanneman and Manuela seated alongside Balen, Seteth, and, of course, Rhea.

She hoped that meant this meeting wasn't about her. She couldn't think of why Hanneman, Manuela, Seteth, and even Balen would need to hear anything she had to say about her past couple of months. She might could limp her way through some other kind of meeting.

She settled in the open space next to Manuela, her father on her other side.

"Blaise, may I express my relief at seeing you recover with such haste. Truly the Goddess is gracious with her blessings," Rhea greeted with her usual air of serenity, a small smile settled on her face.

Blaise blinked, feeling every muscle in her body tense at the attention despite it's apparent innocence. Was she imagining the cold depths of her eyes? The guarded suspicion? She heard it again, a whisper in her mind with the same voice and tone Rhea had just used.

_The Goddess demands penance..._

She fiddled with her chest plate, unable to look away until she'd have sworn she was the only one remaining in the room.

Someone cleared their throat and Rhea broke the eye contact.

"If I may get us back to the meeting. You were saying the White Heron Cup will continue as planned?" Hanneman inquired.

She snapped back to reality with a jerk as a mild shame settled over her. She tried to focus on what Hanuman had said instead of the concerned looks she knew were upon her.

The White Heron Cup, he had said? What in the Goddess's name was that?

"Yes, as will the ball to celebrate the founding of Garreg Mach," Seteth stated.

And a ball?

"We do believe the students deserve some cheer and we have already confirmed to our other guests the ball would continue as normal. It would reflect poorly should the nobility of our three countries arrange plans to attend only to have it cancelled," Rhea continued.

"And you have received confirmation of their intent to attend?" Hanneman pressed.

Seteth gave the sharpest of nods. "The acting Regent, Arch Duke Rufus of Itha will be leading the emissary from the Kingdom and Lady Judith von Daphnel will be representing the Alliance."

"And Adrestia?" Manuela asked.

Seteth crossed his arms. "We received a letter from the Imperial princess…" Blaise snapped her head up, "...late yesterday confirming she will be leading the Empire's representation… which leads us to our next topic..."

"As everyone here is aware, I made the decision to postpone the Battle of the Eagle and Lion during the Wyvern Moon due to circumstances surrounding the Black Eagle House. Now that Manuela has healed and Blaise returned safely, we have decided to host the makeup battle the week following the ball. We will leave two days after the celebration for Gronder field with the Adrestian representatives as escorts," Rhea explained.

"Manuela," Seteth called.

The Black Eagles professor was frowning. "Why yes, dear?"

"Due to her investment in the outcome of the battle, we have granted Edelgard's request for these arrangements so she may attend. She and Hubert will not, however, be allowed to participate. You may replace them with any other Black Eagles, if you so desire."

Blaise didn't quite know what came over her in that moment, but she snapped her fingers. Every pair of eyes swiveled to her, expressions ranging from curiosity to concern to utterly unreadable.

She opted not to think too much into them.

_**I want in the battle.**_

Everyone was still and silent for a moment, Blaise feeling her father tense next to her while she saw Manuela twist around in her chair to stare. Blaise knew Manuela was working through her sudden request when she hadn't even put forth the effort to leave her bed in days.

Seteth was the first to respond. "That... could be one option, however, would you not prefer to rest? Know we have no such expectations beyond you helping prepare the Black Eagle students."

Of course they had no expectations. Hell, they never had any real expectations for her.

But Edelgard did.

Edelgard always did.

And she could see the challenge in lavender eyes as clearly as if Edelgard was standing right before her.

_**I want in the battle.**_

"I'm afraid I must agree with Seteth, dear. You should not be putting yourself under any stress," Manuela argued before facing Rhea. "Perhaps you would allow her to remain with Edelgard on behalf of the Church?" she suggested.

Blaise grimaced.

Damn Edelgard.

Damn her for doing this to her. For leaving and somehow still influencing her decisions.

Damn her for lying, for manipulating, for her secrets and distrust.

Damn her for being the one to give her a chance, for sitting with her by a fire in the middle of the night, for liking flowers, and challenging her to be better, and not whispering about her and defending her and not judging.

Damn her for being commanding and captivating and- and radiant.

Just damn all of her.

_**I want in the battle.**_

"Referee then?" Jeralt grunted.

This was getting ridiculous. Her nails dug into her palms until they drew blood, but she hardly noticed.

"Let her fight."

It was Balen who spoke for the first time that meeting and silence once again befell the room. How was it he did that? When had he begun to exude such confidence in this setting.

"Kid…" Jeralt began.

And for the first time ever, Blaise heard Balen intentionally interrupt.

There was something in his hand that Balen flipped, red and black catching in the light. "She wants to fight for something." He looked up, their eyes meeting and she was surprised again because she was sure he actually understood. He slid something across the table to her so fast she had to scramble to catch it.

Lifting her hand, she faced the Black Eagle pendant she had lost. It was now adorned with a new chain of silver, but the pendant was the same with no hint of a scratch.

Her eyes burned.

But she smiled and nodded, clenching the pendant in the palm of her hand.

Edelgard and Blaise? The Flame Emperor and Névé?

Their dance had gone on long enough.

Blaise would show her she was both and what that meant. She would challenge Edelgard as she was so wont to do to her.

And they would see. Everyone would see.

The pieces would fall where they fell.

_A/N:_

_I prefer longer chapters because I'm much less likely to change my mind on the direction the story is going, but this is all I have right now. Fingers crossed my planning for this last stretch will hold up and I won't end up deleting and rewriting what I've already posted._

_Not too much happens here besides set-up for later but we do get a bit of a spark from Blaise at the end. Edelgard not actually being at the monastery as Blaise expected certainly throws her for a loop and she decides to take matters into her own hands. Finally. We'll see how well she holds onto it once she forces herself out of self-isolation next chapter._

_Thanks for reading! I appreciate all of you._


	22. Chapter 21

"Blaise Eisner! Don't you walk away from me!"

Blaise winced at Manuela's tone. She'd done her best to bolt as soon as they were dismissed, but, clearly, she hadn't been fast enough. She blamed Seteth for blocking the doorway a second too long.

She had no choice but to pause, feigning an extensive interest in clipping her pendant around her neck so she didn't have to directly face Manuela's ire.

The others caught up, Balen considering her as he passed but, apparently, not quite desiring to come between her and Manuela. He Signed instead.

**_See you in the dining hall?_ **

The dining hall …

Right. She'd have to brave it sooner or later.

Blaise nodded, waving him off.

Manuela was before her by then, arms crossed and tapping her foot as she glowered. "Take it easy, I said. Did I not say that, Blaise? Or was something in your brain not wired together properly where throwing yourself in a battle is considered a leisure?" she ranted.

**_I'm fine._ **

Her father had stopped several feet away, and she knew he had a few choice words for her as well.

But one upset adult at a time.

"If I had a gold coin for every time I heard that ..."

"Manuela, spare your colleague the dramatics. You said it yourself, she is healing remarkably. No doubt a side effect of her Major Crest of Chevalier, truly fascinating don't you think?" Professor Hanneman mused, placing a hand upon Manuela's shoulder.

Blaise fought not to grimace. She liked Hanneman for the most part, but sometimes the way he worded things...

… Made her feel like less than a person.

And she didn't need any help with that right now.

Manuela shrugged him off. "Hanneman, you old geezer, this conversation doesn't concern you," she snapped.

The Crest Scholar fiddled with his monocle as he sighed. "Then perhaps you might consider a more private location-"

"Or you could leave me to my lecture as intended," she returned.

Blaise glanced between the two and had half a mind to try her luck at slipping away. She probably would have if it wasn't for her father watching.

**_I want in the battle._ **

She sighed. It wasn't even a life or death battle, just a matter of wounded pride if she screwed up. At least as far as any of them would be aware. For her there was a little more involved but still nothing life or death.

Manuela spun on her. "And don't you think for even a second I don't know why!" Blaise felt her breath catch for just a moment before Manuela's glare shifted to Hanneman. A pause and the Black Eagles professor grabbed Blaise by the arm and began dragging her away.

Blaise certainly wasn't in the mood to fight her, not with that glare that reminded her of an angry lion on Manuela's face, and it did put more distance between herself and her father so she refrained from digging her heels in the ground. She was slightly more concerned when Manuela stomped right past the corridor that led to the infirmary.

To safety.

Blaise looked longingly as she was pulled by it.

**_Where are we going?_ **

"The classroom. You say you're fine for a battle, you're going to prove it to me."

Prove it?

Blaise's stomach did nasty flips. She didn't know what this was, hadn't thought her plan through very well at this point, but still she was sure this wasn't what she'd had in mind. What was Manuela thinking? She wasn't ready to fight right this second… The Battle of the Eagle and Lion was like a month away.

"If you are going to make such ridiculous requests, at least have the decency to run them by me first. Honestly, you wouldn't even leave the infirmary and now you want to participate in battle?!" Manuela continued to complain all the way until she kicked the door open and Blaise found herself in the middle of the classroom.

And it wasn't empty.

Which was utterly bizarre because it was evening and classes were over for the day.

Blaise cast a glance over her shoulder just to be sure she wasn't crazy, but, no, it was definitely dark outside.

Yet six of her eight Black Eagle students were currently staring at her with as much surprise as she was sure was on her own face.

It was like a rabid monkey had been set loose when Caspar recovered.

"We've got Blaise back!" Caspar yelled, jumping from his seat and barreling toward her with an enthusiasm she had forgotten.

She vaguely thought she should move, but couldn't for the life of her get herself to do more than stare blankly at the charging boy.

Manuela, graciously, grabbed him by the collar as he sped by her, jerking him to an abrupt halt. "No roughhousing for her for at least another week," she ordered as she gave Caspar another shake for good measure before letting him go again.

The blue–haired boy spluttered unintelligibly, but his eyes still shone. He closed the distance with a few barely restrained bounds, stopping only when he was practically nose to nose with Blaise. If he was a puppy, he'd be wagging his tail.

Blaise just blinked, otherwise unmoving with every muscle taut and ready... for what she wasn't quite sure.

And then there was silence.

She swore she heard a quill drop from somewhere.

Still Caspar continued to grin as if thoroughly oblivious to the tension. Waiting, waiting...

She risked a glance at Manuela, noting a calculating look that Blaise only recalled seeing on her features when she was testing the Black Eagles over something she wasn't sure they understood or not.

Blaise realized she was the one being tested this time.

To prove she was fine.

Because, duh, she couldn't participate in the battle if she couldn't function with her class.

She sucked in a breath, mentally cursing Edelgard again, and her hand twitched in some semblance of shaky Sign.

**_Hello, Caspar._ **

She didn't know Caspar could grin much wider, but she swore it grew and... it was kind of a relief. She felt some of her tension dissolve from her shoulders.

"I've been practicing. Watch this," Caspar exclaimed. He raised his hand, forehead knitting with concentration as he forced his fingers in a more intricate pattern than she was used to seeing from him.

It was… incorrect in a lot of ways but legible nevertheless.

**_Welcome back. The Black Eagles missed you._ **

Blaise felt her lips twitch into a smile, a feat she didn't realize would feel as odd as it did. She looked over his shoulder and Ferdinand was standing beside his desk with that ever cheerful smile of his, Dorothea was a few steps closer looking as if she was about to cry, Petra stood in her chair like a panther ready to pounce across the room, Linhardt was still in his chair, but he was awake, and Bernadetta was creeping closer with every blink of Blaise's eyes.

Her heart thumped in her chest so hard she thought it might burst.

**_I missed the Black Eagles._ **

It wasn't so much a realization. She knew she had missed them.

She just didn't expect it to feel so much like when she'd seen Balen and her father after so long… In fact, it didn't feel different at all. Was that odd?

It wasn't a question she entertained.

Blaise vaulted forward, throwing her arms around Caspar's neck much as she had with Balen in Remire. Caspar, with all his enthusiasm, laughed with no restraint and twirled her around, and it was like a bunch of rabid monkeys were set loose then as the rest of the students decided a group hug was necessary.

If Dorothea hadn't been crying before, she definitely was now as Blaise found herself pulled slightly from Caspar and toward her. Dorothea couldn't even say anything intelligible, and it only made Blaise start crying as well but in the best way possible. Still holding her hand, Blaise swung around to Ferdinand who luckily caught her before she fell over as Petra squeezed herself between Blaise and Dorothea.

"Your return lifts my spirits more than I can describe. It is like the sun has risen after weeks of night," Ferdinand admitted.

"So dramatically poetic, Ferdinand," Linhardt stated. The healer remained standing a respectable distance from the chaos, but he did nod to her. "It is, however, nice to see you in fine health, Blaise," he offered.

Blaise had now released Dorothea's hand in favor of grabbing Bernadetta's and dragging the young archer, sputtering and flailing into her.

Yes, it wasn't everyone but with Ferdinand and Petra on either side of her, Dorothea behind, Bernadetta in front and suffering a massive bear hug from Caspar, and Manuela watching from across the room with a satisfied smile…

The Black Eagles, as they were, was certainly something she'd been missing.

It was probably fifteen minutes later before Manuela managed to pry all six students from Blaise and insist they take a seat. Apparently, they were here for an actual reason and not just hanging out in the classroom.

Manuela gave them a brief rundown of the meeting they had come from which Blaise mostly tuned out, having heard it already. Something about a White Heron Cup and the ball and, of course, the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. It all seemed to make sense to the students who grinned and hung onto Manuela's words with rapport attention. They were particularly excited to hear Edelgard and Hubert would be attending the Battle of the Eagle and Lion even if they weren't allowed to participate.

"That will be alright! With Blaise's return our victory is assured. Edelgard and Hubert will be pleased to witness the strength of the Black Eagle House," Ferdinand exclaimed followed by a "Yeah, the other Houses don't stand a chance!" from Caspar and a high-five between the two enthusiastic boys.

"Do neither of you remember the way the mock battle went down? Don't underestimate the others," Linhardt cautioned.

Petra jumped to her feet. "I am believing in us. Ferdinand is speaking true, our spirits are highest."

"Now, Kids, settle down. We have a lot of catching up to do before we are ready to go against the other houses," Manuela interrupted before the excitement could get out of hand once again. Blaise did notice the Black Eagles professor wasn't exactly hiding her wide smile.

Dorothea's hand shot in the air. "Professor?"

"Yes, my songbird?" Manuela prompted.

Dorothea's smile wavered as she glanced to Blaise and back to Manuela. "Blaise is going to be in the battle then?" she asked and the class seemed to utterly freeze.

Blaise didn't answer. She looked to Manuela as did the rest of the class, now silent and hanging on for her reply. She wondered if she made a pleading face if Manuela would give in.

As it was, she hadn't managed it before Manuela huffed, raising a hand to massage her head. "Blaise will be taking charge of the Black Eagles' participation in the White Heron Cup while I plan the event itself..." the professor faced Blaise directly, "... should you regain your strength by the time the battle takes place, you may fight for the Black Eagles," she allowed.

Blaise grinned at her victory, however passive. Victory was victory after all.

All that stood between her and her goal was training and some White Heron Cup?

Piece of cake. She could totally handle that.

Right?

First things first though… what was this White Heron Cup?

~FE~

A dance.

"You have never heard of the White Heron Cup?" Ferdinand exclaimed, jaw open as if she'd told him she'd learned to fly in her time away.

She refrained from sighing.

No, Ferdinand. Why would she have heard of some random event at a prestigious academy she had never attended?

"Why, Blaise, it is an esteemed competition. One student from each House will perform a dance and the superior performance will attain a prize for the entire house!" Ferdinand continued.

And bragging rights which she supposed went without saying.

"It is a one of a kind experience. I would be happy to represent the Black Eagles. Would you like me to demonstrate the legendary footwork of House Aegir?"

"Now wait, Ferdie. I simply adore dancing and I'm quite good at it. I danced frequently on the stage when I was with the opera company, you know," Dorothea argued.

Caspar practically jumped out of his chair again, hand waving in the air. "I'm a great dancer too, Blaise! I volunteer!"

"I am having uncertainty of the style of dancing in Fodlan, but in Brigid I have much skill," Petra admitted.

Blaise just blinked as she realized this was going to be harder than she thought. Of course they would all want to volunteer.

Sans Bernadetta who was hiding again and Linhardt who'd finally succumbed to the sleep he so desperately desired.

Okay, dance competition, Blaise.

She dragged the blackboard over, rolling chalk in her hand.

_Who knows how to dance? Legitimately? _

Everyone but the unconscious Linhardt raised their hand, even Bernadetta although her hand barely topped the desk. Blaise couldn't contain some measure of surprise at the shy girl.

**_You know how to dance?_ **

"My father … not very good..." Bernadetta squeaked before she ducked completely under her desk with a cry of, "I don't want to!"

Fair enough.

"All children of the noble houses are taught to dance," Ferdinand explained.

Go figure she would have the house full of nobles with the only exception being an opera star.

Blaise clapped her hands. Okay, she was just going to have to decide who was the best dancer of the class. She'd seen dancing before, done a little herself. It shouldn't be too hard.

She dismissed them, telling them to practice before the next evening if they wanted to be the representative for the Black Eagles. They left, speaking among themselves in an excited chatter once they'd successfully woken Linhardt.

She turned around as the room quieted to face Manuela who had taken a seat at the teacher's desk, enjoying the show that was Blaise floundering no doubt.

**_So?_ **

Approve or not?

Manuela's lips twitched. "You must want in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion terribly," she mused. Her smile faded however into concern as she leaned forward, considering Blaise with a thoughtful expression. "The real question is whether there's something to prove or someone to impress?"

Blaise ignored her tone which she didn't quite know what to make of.

**_Sounds the same._ **

But it wasn't.

And it was more like both.

"To some," Manuela hummed and then sighed. "You needn't try so hard, dear. Having a goal is great, but it's okay to feel a little lost. Healing takes time and anyone who expects otherwise can jump off a cliff."

Was Manuela allowed to condone jumping off cliffs?

Blaise shoved the errant question away.

**_I'm fine._ **

A deeper frown graced the professor's features. "Contrary to popular belief, Blaise, saying something enough doesn't make it true," Manuela stated.

Blaise's fingers were sharper this time as she Signed the words again.

**_I'm fine._ **

Manuela took a deep breath, shutting her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them again, she rose to her feet. "Okay, you're fine. You can sleep in your own dorm tonight if you want. Come find me if you need me," she offered, an edge to her voice. She paused at Blaise's side, whatever ire she felt dissipating as quickly as it came. Her hand hovered over Blaise's shoulder before gently squeezing it. "If you're not feeling up to it in the morning, stay in and rest. You can join us in the afternoon," she added on the way out. She gave a final wave and Blaise was abruptly left in the empty classroom.

She stood there, seeing nothing once Manuela's form retreated out into the night.

Great job, Blaise. Way to be antagonistic.

She could have smacked herself over the head, especially now she'd successfully gotten herself left on her own. Her breath caught in her throat in a completely different way than when Caspar had charged upon her.

It was an unwelcome catch and entirely her own fault.

But she was fine, wasn't she? She could do this, right?

It was only a dance and then a ball and finally a battle. It was only the Black Eagles and Manuela… and Edelgard. And it was all going to work out. For everyone.

Yeah.

She winced as the classroom's remaining lantern flickered, threatening to surround her with darkness. Her adrenalin picked up, a part of her wanting to leave for the safety of... somewhere. Maybe someone.

But that room was empty, that someone out of reach.

Instead, Blaise lowered herself in one of the desks, watching the flame as it's light danced and cast shadows around her. If she thought hard enough she could almost imagine a campfire, a notebook in her hand, a presence beside her.

She could see the flames reflect upon silver hair.

She could almost feel the pressure in her hand, the soft touch of fingers intertwined with her own.

She marveled the memory and how it felt so long ago and how... empty it left her now. How had it slipped so cruelly from her fingers? Why? What had she done? Had she imagined the promises beneath the words?

Blaise knew Edelgard wasn't straightforward. In fact, she was downright complicated but still...

How had she gotten it all so wrong?

She shoved the lantern off the desk, relishing for just that moment at the sound of glass shattering. She stomped out what little flame it had held with a fervency that kind of scared her even as it satisfied whatever combination of emotions initiated the outburst. Glass crunched under her foot once, twice, three times before her energy seemed to suck straight out of her body.

And she slid to the ground, limbs decidedly limp, to sit in the dark.

Blaise dropped her head in her hands, fingers catching on her hair as she attempted to massage some sense of security into her being.

She was such an idiot, she realized.

Deluding herself in this way...

Rhea and Seteth had never offered her a job worth doing. She had always been an afterthought. If what her father said was true, Rhea had never shown interest in her as she had Balen. Balen was the reason her father left the Knights of Seiros, Balen was the reason they moved around, Balen was who the Agarthans had wanted.

Blaise was an accident and one they threw out even now because she just wasn't... good enough.

So why did she think Edelgard would feel any different about her?

Why in Fodlan's name had she possibly entertained the thought that a well-respected crown princess of the Empire would want anything more than a temporary working relationship with a mercenary who couldn't even speak on her own behalf.

Of course she'd ditched her once she'd realized Blaise wasn't capable of performing to expectations.

Blaise squeezed her eyes shut as if her surroundings could get any darker.

She'd let Myson get the better of her. She'd allowed herself to be a victim.

And this was what it had cost her.

There was nothing left but a shattered dream and an empty hand yearning for a touch that wasn't there.

She let one hand drop into her lap, palm up and fingers splayed. The shadow of Chevalier's Crest filled the empty space and, for once, it didn't bring her any comfort. She kept it tight around her despite the number of Crests calling to her. It felt foreign, needlessly disconnected as it was. Violent as it fought against her restrictions, but she had grown somewhat used to that by now.

And she was in control and she didn't want anything to do with Crests. Nothing good would come from it.

She told herself that.

She reminded herself of painful visions and the way it had nearly ripped her apart when Balen first touched the Sword of the Creator. She reminded herself it was what they had wanted of her. She steadfastly ignored the memory of Chevalier's smile, the one that made her feel like she was the only one in the world. She pushed away the freedom she found in Resonance in it's most pure form when she had no fear of Crest weapons and beasts.

She preferred a pounding headache, the itch of denial, the draining of energy.

Blaise felt she deserved it and more.

And yet…

She needed to embrace it.

How else would she prove anything of worth within her? How else could she ever be anything more than she was? Someone respected and capable?

Valuable. Desired. Adored. Loved.

Was it too much to ask just to feel wanted?

A shadow in the edge of her vision moved.

Blaise wasn't so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice. Her back snapped straight though she remained sitting, eyes scouring the classroom. She briefly lamented the destruction of the lantern but, instead of dwelling, allowed the Crest of Chevalier to be replaced with fire bright enough to light the corners of the room.

She nearly jumped upon finding a student mere feet from her. She supposed she was a student anyway considering the Black Eagles uniform though Blaise did not recognize her.

And she thought she would remember this young woman with her deep red hair and eyes.

The student smiled and it did nothing to set Blaise at ease but reminded her of a feral cat. Bared teeth and sharp eyes.

Blaise instinctively stood lest she become the mouse.

The student cocked her head. "So you are the professor who went missing..." she mused, sounding as disgusted as she was curious.

How odd.

Blaise hadn't brought a notebook so opted not to respond.

"I'd have thought someone of Chevalier's line to be less… Fodlan," the student sneered before the antagonism disappeared in another unnerving smile, "... No matter. Monica von Ochs. Edel has told me so much about you."

Edel?

Blaise's lip curled at the pet name.

Who did this Monica think she was suggesting she had such familiarity with Edelgard?

She resisted the urge to ignore her completely, offering a stiff bow that was little more than polite before she set about cleaning up the broken lantern pieces.

A hand grabbed her wrist tight enough she winced despite her brace.

What the Hell?

Blaise knew her glare could have frozen water in that moment yet Monica's smile didn't so much as waver.

"Let me see it," Monica whispered, tone bordering on threatening as she slowly twisted Blaise's wrist just enough to be uncomfortable. Monica moved way too close, her lips at Blaise's ear before she knew it. "Let me see Névé."

The breath at her ear sent shivers down her spine, something cold freezing her in it's grip.

Her wrist twisted a little more until it hurt and, though it wasn't much pain, Blaise felt as if she was being threatened with a thunder spell. She ground her teeth, staring at the floor but seeing nothing.

She complied.

Chevalier's Crest once again a light in the darkness.

They were still.

Blaise didn't dare move to see what Monica was doing, what she was thinking. She had a sudden desperation to leave and get as far away as she possibly could.

But she couldn't get herself to move.

It felt like hours before Monica released her wrist, but the relief was minimal when she did not step back. Feather-light touches along her arm, her shoulders, her neck as Monica shifted around in front of her only sent her mind whirling with wishes to flee.

And disgust.

Oh how easy it was for her to submit.

"How was Shambhala? Did you enjoy your visit home?" Monica giggled and it was an odd sound.

They were about the same height, Blaise realized. It was hard not to notice actually with mere inches separating the two of them. Her hair was done up in a well-maintained noblesque style, she smelled of perfume. Too much perfume as Blaise couldn't decipher any individual scent.

But it was her eyes that bothered her the most.

There was a ring of yellow that she swore hadn't been there before and, tinged with the purple shadow of Chevalier, further took Blaise somewhere she did not wish to be.

It was instinctual when she shoved the "student" away.

She needed room to breathe, needed space to think.

It wasn't intentional to push Monica into a desk though she couldn't say the act bothered her per se.

It did, however, bother Monica and Blaise simply hadn't fled fast enough as she suddenly felt a dagger against her neck.

She froze.

"Now, Névé," Monica purred, the jagged edge of the athame grazing Blaise's throat. "Your skills and cooperation are expected. Do not tempt me or I might just..." she trailed off, Blaise hissing as Monica jerked her hand so the blade broke skin. "... slip. I find it so difficult to stop," she admitted.

Blaise swallowed back the bitter taste of bile, but otherwise made no effort to move or respond.

"So quiet …" Monica hummed approvingly before she, finally, shoved Blaise away so hard she nearly fell flat on the floor.

For her part, Blaise didn't so much as glance back but bolted out of the classroom. Her room wasn't far. She turned for the stairwell that would take her past the Audience Chamber, deciding it was closer, and safer, than running across the monastery to reach her room from the dormitory side.

Perhaps she should have taken that chance though as she very nearly collided with the Archbishop at the bottom of the stairs. Blaise jumped back as if she'd been struck, banging her head into the wall behind her.

"Good evening, Blaise. It warms my heart to see you on the monastery grounds. Did you make time to visit with the Black Eagles?" Rhea asked, all smiles as if she had no idea Blaise was in any way flustered.

Blaise barely heard Rhea over the pounding of her own heart, but she managed a nod.

"Wonderful. I take it you were retiring for the night. Might I convince you into indulging me with a short walk before?" Rhea inquired.

No.

Her head practically screamed the response, yet her body nodded of it's own volition.

Blaise wasn't sure it was real but Rhea beamed at her agreement, and then Blaise, with little alternative she was willing to express, found herself treading alongside the Archbishop, flipping the collar of the Flame Emperor's cloak up to cover Monica's slip. She huddled deep inside the cloak, side-eyeing Rhea who seemed to have her gaze trained straight ahead.

She was going to ask questions, wasn't she?

She was… taking her to the cathedral.

Her sense of foreboding grew exponentially and she wanted to scream. Goddess, she felt surrounded. A violent Agarthan and a judgmental Archbishop everywhere she turned.

Bright side, though she hesitated to call it such, was that if she answered whatever Rhea wanted to know she'd probably be satisfied and go back to fawning over Balen and Blaise could get the hell away from her.

Rhea hummed as they crossed the bridge, stars twinkling down upon them in a way not completely unlike the bridge in Zanado.

Once Blaise really looked at it, the architecture wasn't that different from the ruinous city she adored so much. It was almost comforting despite her present company.

"Jeralt told me he informed you of your mother and her place here."

Rhea's statement surprised her. Of all the things to bring up... and she wasn't so sure he had shared much of anything. What had he said? Her mother had been a nun?

"Sitri's fragility meant we could not walk together often, but I cherished every time." Rhea glanced out over the expanse beyond the bridge. "She was difficult for many to understand in her own way, but she loved the fresh air and would sit and watch the stars as long as we would let her. Longer than she should have often times," Rhea admitted. She chuckled softly under her breath. "Sitri had that way of passing time. In the blink of an eye, dawn would be gracing the horizon." Her smile, which Blaise thought may have been genuinely soft, faded. Her forehead crinkled. "I have long lamented her life was much the same. Gone much too quickly," she whispered.

Rhea was quick to turn away, to continue leading the way down the bridge with Blaise stumbling in her wake to keep up with the taller woman.

Despite herself, her mother was a topic of immense interest. Even from Rhea. Even as it was becoming apparent there had been a relationship between Rhea and Sitri.

The knowledge didn't put her at ease. In fact, it only fed her trepidation. But it was knowledge she would not find anywhere else, and she'd be damned before she let it slip through her fingers.

Their footsteps echoed in the massive, empty cathedral. Moonlight spilled through stained glass windows, casting odd shadows about the room. Statues of the Goddess, of the Saints, of the most honorable of knights stared down upon them.

Blaise scanned the memorials, wondering if it was possible Chevalier was among them somewhere.

Rhea turned to Blaise then, green eyes examining the former mercenary.

Blaise snapped her gaze straight in front of her, her heart hammering in her chest as if Rhea could read exactly who she'd been looking for.

Maybe this was a bad idea, after all.

Yet, while Rhea's eyes penetrated deep within her, she got the feeling the Archbishop was not looking at her. Instinctively, she glanced over her shoulder.

But nothing was there.

Nothing but statues adding their judgement upon her.

Blaise shivered, barely refraining from recoiling as the Archbishop's fingers were quite suddenly caressing her hair.

She should leave. She did not belong in the church of the Goddess.

This was all very wrong.

"I wonder…" Rhea's whisper sounded loud in the silence, drawing Blaise back into green eyes.

Green eyes that were haunted and dark.

Was it possible to see herself reflected in another's eyes? … Because surely Rhea wasn't frightened.

She was calculating. She was trying to get something from Blaise. She was... plotting.

She had to be.

But her eyes... they were so distant and Blaise couldn't help but wonder if Rhea even realized who stood in front of her.

After all, the Rhea she knew didn't look at her so softly, much less caress her hair. Chevalier was the only one to have done so the same way.

"I thought of her as a daughter…"

Only a fool would have to ask who Rhea spoke of.

And Blaise was a lot of things, but she didn't think of herself as a fool. Not really.

Her heart sank in her chest as she added one more person to the ever-growing number of people her existence disappointed.

~FE~

She was fine. She was fine. She was fine.

Blaise repeated it like a mantra from where she sat tucked in the corner of her room with the Flame Emporer's cloak thrown over her like a blanket.

She hated this new monastery. This one with one of them and no Edelgard. This one where the statues accused her, and her mother had adored Rhea as much as Rhea had adored her. This one where even her room added to her anxiety because it was where everything had first gone wrong.

She spent a restless night with her lantern needlessly burning oil, eyes fixated across the room at the very point Jeritza had incapacitated her... the first of many consecutive failures that haunted her. She didn't sleep but dragged herself out the very second she felt she could get away with it not being suspicious.

Blaise eased her worries in the greenhouse, mindlessly digging holes and planting bulbs in the soft soil. She left only when classes were due to start.

She'd meant to go to class. She really had. The Black Eagles made her feel so much better. So much more like her.

But Monica had been there.

Blaise heard her from outside the door asking Ferdinand about Enbarr.

She'd turned around and walked off.

She considered going back to the greenhouse, but the garden keeper would probably be there now. She considered the dining hall since she'd now skipped the two meals that had passed since she was allowed to leave the infirmary, but she felt quite nauseous. She absolutely was not allowed on the training grounds, and she sure as hell wasn't going back to the cathedral.

Where else was there?

Her feet took her to the pond. It wasn't like a river, a stream, or the ocean where the water moved and filled the air with soothing sounds, but she still found it peaceful.

It was a bit chilly out on the dock, or rather, very chilly.

But quiet, her brain finally shutting down it's ruminations. Her mind fell blessedly silent if only for this moment.

Monica, as it turned out, wasn't actually in the class with her six students, making it easier for Blaise to join in for the afternoon session like she had intended. At first, Blaise really hadn't thought much about the whole dancing/ White Heron Cup deal, but it quickly became apparent Manuela knew exactly what she was doing when she put Blaise in charge of the Black Eagles representation.

Dancing was hard.

It was exhausting and elegant and precise… the complete opposite of the kind of dancing Blaise had been exposed to with their mercenary troupe. It was almost akin to fighting without a sword which suddenly made a lot more sense as to why she was doing this.

It was easy enough in those first few days to narrow her options down to Dorothea and Ferdinand. She figured whoever could lead her through the motions with the least mistakes probably knew what they were doing.

While Caspar twirled her around with enough exuberance that Blaise couldn't deny was contagious and fun, they did trip over each other frequently, and she felt a bit like a ragdoll being dragged around. Petra was a beautiful dancer in her own right with smooth transitions and a speed that left even Dorothea gaping, but she wasn't familiar with Fodlan's style. If Blaise had gotten to choose the song, she'd have chosen Petra in a heartbeat to spice things up, but, alas, each student performed to the same song chosen by Rhea and it was painfully traditional.

So it went, she spent the next few evenings circling and spinning with Dorothea and Ferdinand, attempting to decipher what made the best dancer while forcing her body through song after song that left her passing out the second her head hit the pillow of her bed at night. Truly, a blessing in it's own right.

The Dining Hall once again became her least favorite place within the monastery. Monica frequented the Black Eagles table, her Black Eagles, that had Blaise thoroughly avoiding the area. At least until Balen walked in as she was attempting to sneak back out and insisted she join him.

And the Golden Deer as it turned out.

Which was awkward in and of itself, but then, also, she swore Monica watched her for reasons she didn't quite understand.

It was always a quiet dinner on her end despite Balen's best attempts to engage her. She appreciated the thought as her brother brought her pastry after pastry that weren't even on the menu, and she suspected he personally baked with one of his students prior to the meal.

Lysithea, if Blaise were to guess based on the girl's borderline unnerving stare.

She really did wish she could enjoy them. They were soft, flaky, sweet, everything Blaise had always liked.

But fancy bread was still bread and two bites in found the flavor seemingly doing a 180 into something hard and stale.

It never failed Balen would eventually get distracted by his boisterous students and Blaise had little else to do but sit there since no one else knew enough Sign to have a conversation until she could safely slip away.

She wasn't sure what was wrong with her.

Interestingly, it was Sylvain who brought it up one evening as she was ditching the Golden Deer. Her one-track mind did her no favors as she passed the Blue Lion student without even realizing he was there until he'd reached a hand out to grab the edge of her cloak.

She jumped about a foot in the air, an act that Sylvain at least had the decency to look apologetic for though he made no comment on it, but smiled that exaggerated grin that he was so good at. "Long time, no see, Blaise. We should have dinner. On me," he offered with a wink.

Blaise crossed her arms. Surely he didn't miss the fact she was leaving the Dining hall.

"Now, I know what you're thinking..."

Did he now?

"... you were just eating with Golden Deer..."

Lucky guess.

"... but I know you didn't touch the food so come on. My treat. We can eat out here, under the stars, no one else. Hell, we can skip dinner and go straight to dessert. Tonight's sorbet is nothing short of divine. What do you say?"

No.

She shook her head and walked away... only for Sylvain to fall in step beside her. She only took a few steps before stopping and digging in her cloak pocket for her notebook. Blaise sighed. She'd taken to pretending she didn't have it on her just for the excuse to avoid conversation, but sometimes the universe seemed completely against her.

_What do you want? _

Really.

Because she wasn't in the mood for games.

Sylvain's smile was slightly more forced as he glanced back behind him. "Not a fan of the new girl, huh?" he asked.

Monica. He was looking at Monica.

She didn't bother to look herself and her face must have said it all since he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, she's a looker for sure but her personality is... interesting, circumstances considered. Seriously, though, if she bothers you, why don't you come hang out with us? Dimitri is a mother hen and Felix is a grump but, aside from those losers…" he said that with affection, "... we're cool."

That … was kind of nice of him and certainly preferable to the Golden Deer. It made her wonder when she had stopped desiring to be alongside Balen.

… Probably when she realized it would never be the same as their mercenary days. Just one more thing to add to her ever-growing list of lamentations.

Sylvain's smile faltered at the lack of response. "Look, no pressure, okay? Just think about it. I don't think I can take much more of your lonely wanderings."

Lonely wanderings…

Sylvain backed away, offering a wave. "See ya' around sometime."

Blaise scoffed in the back of her mind. She wandered because it helped her think and it built stamina. And how could she be lonely, surrounded as she was? She turned her feet toward the courtyards of which would certainly be empty this late.

Certainly she wished Edelgard was still around. She would take the Flame Emperor in a heartbeat even.

She wished for Chevalier too though for different reasons. She hoped she was okay. She'd neither seen nor heard from the Nabatean awake or in dreams in…so long it seemed.

Blaise recalled the clasp of a shackle upon Chevalier's wrist.

Chevalier couldn't really be a captive though, could she? She was like the goddess or something, and she'd always somehow appeared wherever Blaise was. How could some dark-dwelling mortals truly contain her?

She stopped walking because she knew the answer to that too.

They could because of Blaise.

Because she hadn't heeded Chevalier's warning all those months ago and had become a pawn in their game.

Because she'd thrown her lot in with the Flame Emperor and they hadn't been able to, or hadn't desired to, protect her when it came down to it and now this Monica girl was close enough to take her back the second Chevalier attempted otherwise.

"Kid."

Blaise didn't jump this time, but her fists clenched, if only briefly. She was slow to face her father, only barely twisting her head to look over her shoulder, since she couldn't deny she'd been going out of her way to avoid him. She knew he knew it too.

But what could she say? He was her father which meant he had that uncanny ability to know things about her she didn't want anyone to know.

She turned the conversation on him before he had a chance.

**_Do you know Chevalier?_ **

It was a question that had long plagued her. Chevalier claimed she had personally returned Blaise when she was a toddler, and she couldn't imagine she had simply dropped her off and left without ensuring Jeralt claimed her.

Jeralt knew Blaise had dreamed of a green-haired woman, and it had always left him oddly concerned, shaken even, in hindsight. Considering his rather strained relationship with Rhea, she'd kind of assumed he thought it was her.

But what if it had been someone else?

Her father's armor ground as he shifted and she could practically feel the tension radiating between them. "The knight of old?"

Blaise refrained from scoffing. Chevalier was much more than a knight no matter her loyalty.

And her father was lying. He had never been good at the act, preferring direct honesty, so she didn't know why he was trying.

She was so tired of lies.

He must have read her disbelief and frustration on her face since he sighed and scratched his chin. "Why don't we go sit down?" he suggested.

But Blaise didn't move except to turn her whole body to face him.

**_Do you know Chevalier?_ **

This time his sigh was so deep she swore it echoed in the emptiness around them. "I met her once many years ago," he admitted.

**_When she returned me?_ **

His face hardened, something Blaise did not quite expect. "Yes."

Blaise waited but he said nothing more. She tilted her head.

**_What did she say?_ **

"Not much. Nothing memorable at any rate. I remember she was holding you and looked ready to flee at any moment. I barely got her name out of her. I hardly believed at the time she could have been the culprit. Didn't until I learned more of your Crest."

He thought Chevalier was to blame. Logically, she couldn't blame him for coming to that conclusion yet, still, she bristled.

**_I love her._ **

She did not care how his eyes widened at the admission.

**_She's like my mother._ **

She had never quite said those words before, but they felt true.

Chevalier treated her as she had imagined her mother would have though she, admittedly, had little to go on.

"… Kid." Jeralt shook his head, looking away from her and far out at nothing she could identify.

Surprised, hurt, disappointed.

She bristled further, her first instinct to lash out a reply not to tell her how she should feel. It was his fault her mother was such an enigma to begin with. But she felt bad because ... goddess was she messed up or what?

Silence stretched between them, and it was anything but comfortable.

"Sitri is buried here if you wanted to..." he trailed off.

Blaise really didn't. What difference would it make now? Sitri was dead and Blaise had long since been forced to accept that reality, had long since come to terms with knowing nothing of her.

Yet, she couldn't deny a much deeper longing within her.

She wanted her mother.

Even if it meant bearing her shame for her mother to see, accepting the disgust and disappointment that would be in her eyes. She couldn't possibly entertain the thought Sitri would want her to disturb whatever peace she had found in death.

Was it fair of Blaise to make herself feel better by doing so?

She didn't think so, but she followed her father anyway. Sitri … was closer than Chevalier.

…But not for much longer.

Blaise flexed her fingers. She'd be allowed on the training grounds in but a few more days.

Then it was only a matter of an Agarthan, a princess, and a little more time.

_A /N:_

_I've been holding onto this for weeks so sorry about that. Got some stuff going on that I'm trying to figure out what to do so check out my profile if a couple weeks happens and you haven't seen an update._

_This chapter I wanted to touch on what family means to Blaise in some capacity cause obviously that's an important factor in upcoming decisions._

_Next chapter, whenever that will be, should have the White Heron Cup, maybe the beginning of the ball, definitely Edelgard's return._


	23. Chapter 22

Dorothea would be the Black Eagles' representative for the White Heron Cup.

The representative in question had been surprised by the announcement, her green eyes going wide, though Blaise couldn't quite pin down how she had been surprised. She'd put in the effort, she'd worked hard, she out-performed Ferdinand.

Thus, she was the representative.

Everyone, even Ferdinand, was ecstatic for her. There was no doubt in their minds they were going to win. Blaise would like to see who in the other houses could dance halfway as well as Dorothea. There certainly wasn't anyone more captivating.

With the obvious exception of Edelgard who wasn't here so…

Yes, the Black Eagles had the White Heron Cup in the bag.

All that was left to do was inform Manuela of her decision.

It was quite late, early morning actually, and Blaise was going to leave it until the next day except she crossed paths with a knight. He was quite angry, stomping so loud Blaise was surprised he didn't have disgruntled students on his tail. Still, Blaise wouldn't have thought twice about him except he called out to her.

"You, Eisner!"

Blaise paused mid step, her hand dropping just a bit lower to her sword's hilt.

Instinct, of course.

"You're buddies with Manuela, right? I got a message for her."

Oh?

She tilted her head, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"We'll never go out together again," the knight snapped before he stomped right on by.

She watched him go, Blaise rolling her eyes. What a baby. Manuela wasn't that bad even when she was wasted.

With a sigh, Blaise changed her direction back toward the infirmary to check on her fellow honorary Black Eagle. The hallways were silent now that Sir Stomps-A-Lot had descended the stairs. The infirmary sounded quiet as well once she stood outside the door. Maybe she should just leave it for the morning... What if Manuela was asleep?

She had a mental image of the former songstress silently drinking herself into oblivion.

Blaise knocked and then knocked again when she didn't immediately get a response.

"I... who... Oh settle down and stop with the knocking. I'll be there in two shakes" came Manuela's disgruntled voice. It sounded thick with sleep.

So she had been asleep. Good job, Blaise.

Well, it would be worse to leave now that Manuela was awake and coming to answer the door if the sounds on the other side told her anything. It sounded like hard work on her part.

"Who is it?" Manuela demanded over the sound of something heavy falling.

Blaise chewed her lip, not sure how to answer that. Hesitantly, she knocked again.

Luckily, Manuela seemed to at least suspect it was her and not someone continuously knocking. "Blaise? Is that you?"

Another light rap on the door.

"I- just a moment..." Manuela's voice lowered albeit not enough for Blaise to quit being able to hear. "Manuela, you really must quit... Ugh. Hold on. Where are my clothes? I can't even find my- where in blazes is my underwear?!"

Blaise did wonder if Manuela knew she could still be heard. As it was, Blaise simply shook her head, hoping her face wasn't heating enough to be noticeable. "…Oh, I- what is my dressing robe caught on? I can't tie this properly! It's not even covering- Oh, Manuela … this will have to do."

At least Blaise wasn't like Seteth or someone important coming to check on the Songstress. Blaise could see that being a problem.

The door finally swung open to reveal a distressed Manuela. She looked awfully pale even in the dark, hair an absolute mess, and her clothes... well, she tried to cover herself. Blaise could appreciate the attempt.

"Oh, thank the Goddess it's only you," Manuela groaned, a hand cradling her head.

Blaise tried not to feel irritated by the greeting.

Yes, it was only her.

That was put less delicately than usual. Clearly, Manuela was still a bit drunk.

Blaise stepped inside, pushing Manuela a step back so she could close the door before someone else wandered out to see their head physician in such a state.

"You had a reason for coming here I assume. I've put a lot of effort into making it possible to speak with you, you know."

_**I heard.**_

Also, the infirmary was a mess of empty alcohol bottles, a shattered glass or two, knocked over chairs... so that was all the noise she'd heard.

Manuela huffed, Blaise beginning to wonder if the woman wasn't just drunk but also sour with her. "I do hope you have the decorum to pretend you heard nothing." A pause. "So what do you want?" she inquired.

Blaise hesitated. Maybe the knight's message could wait if she was upset with her too. She knew she hadn't been the best company lately, and it wasn't Manuela's fault she was moody and paranoid and on edge.

_**Sorry.**_

A long pause followed.

Manuela blinked before letting out a long groan.

"No, you've done nothing wrong. Let's just say I'm not having a good day." Manuela glanced out the window which was still dark. "Rather, I'm not having a good night... Never mind," she grumbled. "But quit changing the subject, it's late to be visiting for idle chit chat. Does something hurt? You haven't been sneaking onto the training grounds, have you?" The glare she gave Blaise was quite severe.

Blaise shook her head.

_**I was on my way to my room and a knight stopped me to give you a message.**_

"You heard from him?!" She was definitely surprised and maybe just a tad hopeful. "Huh, what'd he say?" Manuela asked.

Blaise considered the mess that was Manuela and the infirmary.

_**He was rude. I don't approve.**_

A moment passed, Manuela's expression unreadable until she snorted. Disappointed and unsurprised. Blaise could sympathize with the feeling. She went for something likely to truly cheer her up.

_**I chose a representative for the White Heron Cup.**_

It had the desired affect, Manuela's gaze losing that sulking distance and softening when she looked at Blaise. "Don't leave me wondering, dear, who did you choose?"

_**Dorothea.**_

Blaise knew the younger opera star held a special place in Manuela's heart, and it was doubly apparent in her smile at this moment. Her voice caught, Blaise suspecting she was overcome with emotion. "Excellent choice, dear…" she admitted, "...Dorothea is a beautiful dancer. I taught her, you know? Back at Mittlefrank Opera," she breathed. "Of course, she's evolved since then into something all her own."

Blaise felt a smile tug at her lips. It was quite obvious to most everyone who Dorothea's inspiration was.

_**Ferdinand wouldn't stop talking about a sword dance he saw you perform once.**_

Manuela actually flushed enough Blaise could tell in the dark. "He knows of that? Why he would have been… seven? Eight?" she exclaimed.

_**He saw your every performance between the ages of five and eleven.**_

"He- he did?!"

Yes, Manuela was definitely flattered. Blaise mentally congratulated herself. If she didn't know any better she'd say Manuela looked about to cry from sheer joy.

_**That's what he said.**_

Blaise paused with her hand in the air, a sudden thought flashing through her mind. Zanado lit by stars and herself ...

_**Will you teach me?**_

Manuela started. "Pardon?"

_**To dance? Will you teach me?**_

She wanted to dance. She remembered thinking it. She'd wanted to ask Chevalier but never had...

And sure she'd learned some from the lessons with Dorothea and Ferdinand, but Manuela was different than them. She was kind of like Chevalier. She... well, she was a star.

"I- you've been dancing, dear. Quite well from what I've seen…" Manuela began, pausing only when Blaise exaggerated her expression into what she hoped would come across as pleading. "... Oh, fine, but put those away," she complained, waving at Blaise's wide eyes. "Maybe we can fit a practice or two in. But starting tomorrow. If that's all, go on. I appreciate you checking on me but you should be resting. Go. Get."

Blaise allowed herself to be ushered out, a bit of a newfound skip in her step.

~FE~

Blaise didn't see Manuela that next morning, deciding she had earned a late morning start after the previous night.

Or so she had thought.

She awoke much earlier than she wanted to a knock on her door that only persisted as she ignored it. She dragged herself out of bed, across the room, and opened the door to be met with Ferdinand's bright smile.

Goddess, his smile was brighter than the sun.

She blinked, raising one eyebrow in a silent question.

"Blaise! We are in need of you for our morning session. It seems Manuela has a meeting with the Archbishop over the White Heron Cup preparations and will be late," Ferdinand explained.

Oh.

Blaise scratched her head, briefly lamenting the loss of sleep as well as her surprise. Maybe she needed to take charge of Manuela's schedule if for no other reason than to know when she would be needed for the Black Eagles.

As it was, Blaise gestured for Ferdinand to give her a moment while she suited up in her armor and half-heartedly pulled a brush through her hair. She and Ferdinand made it to the classroom just as Caspar was dragging Linhardt inside. Everyone else was already there in their usual seats.

She paused, glancing at the two seats in the front and center of which remained empty.

Blaise shook her head to clear it.

_**What have you been working on?**_

Obviously they couldn't spend all their time dancing, especially when there was only one representative per house.

Linhardt yawned but actually caught and comprehended her Sign first. "Strategies for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion." He stretched back in his chair. "Not that it matters. The Golden Deer have all the advantages," he drawled.

"Yeesh, Linhardt. Where's your Black Eagle pride?" Caspar complained, lightly shoving the healer seated next to him.

Blaise heard some murmured complaints from Ferdinand but, overwhelmingly, the Black Eagles seemed to agree with Linhardt. Dorothea remained silent, avoiding Blaise's gaze by feigning extensive interest in the papers on her desk, and even Petra, who had been enthusiastic the night of Blaise's return to the group, was silent.

It spoke volumes.

And Blaise couldn't quite argue when the Golden Deer and even the Blue Lions had advantages the Black Eagles had to compensate for. Edelgard hadn't just been an excellent soldier but a morale booster on the field. Hubert, despite his dour personality, had been deeply motivated for them to succeed and not bad with tactics either.

Then there was Balen who had soundly and single-handedly beat Edelgard and Hubert during the mock battle and Blaise had yielded to a few months back.

Yes, Balen was a serious challenge with Edelgard and Hubert but a nearly impossible challenge without them.

Strategies alone weren't going to bring them a win this time. They had to address some of these problems before moving on.

Blaise pointed to Ferdinand, surprised to see everyone was already looking at her. The young cavalier straightened in his seat at the directive.

_**You're taking Hubert's place in tactics.**_

He'd shown promise before the Conand tower mission and it was time to pursue it. Ferdinand would never be as calculating as Hubert, but he'd come a long way from that boy she first met who scoffed at the very idea of attacking a "passerby" on the field. Besides that, Ferdinand was deeply loyal to his classmates. He would be less willing to sacrifice them for a more trivial win and, in the case of this battle, they needed as many Black Eagles on the field for as long as possible if they had any hope.

Ferdinand stood to his feet and bowed. "I would be honored," he agreed.

Blaise barely acknowledged him with a nod before transferring her attention to Dorothea. The former Songstress shifted in what Blaise thought may be a rare show of nerves.

_**Team Leader One.**_

A swivel to Petra next to her.

_**Team Leader Two.**_

No one person here could embody what Edelgard brought to the team on such short notice, but Dorothea had the charisma and Petra had the best fighting and leadership skill of the remaining Black Eagles.

Together, they would be a force all their own.

If there came a point where it was necessary to split the Black Eagles up on the field or separation occurred just from the flow of battle, they would know who to follow.

That, as insignificant as it may seem, could make the difference between a win and a loss.

It also lit a fire in Petra as Blaise hoped it might.

"I will be leading the Black Eagles to victory!"

Dorothea, on the other hand, wasn't as enthused. Nervous, Blaise guessed. "I don't know, Blaise. What about you and Manuela?" she asked.

Blaise tilted her head, refraining from reminding her she and Manuela would not always be around. They would graduate soon and Manuela would get a new class of students and Blaise would... do something.

No, this battle was for the students to show what they could do together.

_**Manuela will be support, but you can't rely on one person. You need to work together.**_

She got a nod or two in response, but there was a silent question in all their eyes. One they expected an answer to.

Blaise took a deep breath.

_**I'm going to deal with Balen.**_

Because then nothing would stand in the way of the Black Eagles.

… And she couldn't think of a better way to get all eyes on her. Particularly a pair of calculating lavender.

She worked hard to maintain their focus from that point on. It wouldn't do for them to get discouraged. So while the White Heron Cup wasn't going to directly improve their battle skills, Blaise didn't fight their enthusiasm for it.

It would be good for Dorothea, if nothing else. Boost her confidence in her team leader role that Blaise could tell she was resisting.

Still, the entire event was as frivolous an affair as Blaise had imagined. She watched as each day a new decoration was added to the grand entrance hall where the competition would be held. She watched as the students grew ever more cheerful with each passing day, hour, minute … It was almost contagious with how deeply Blaise desired to see her eagles smile.

Almost.

She couldn't quite get there herself no matter how hard she tried. She didn't think anyone really noticed this time though for which she was grateful. In the end, she itched for it to be done and over with so she could personally hit up the training grounds.

When the day finally came around, Blaise stood on the edge of the crowd upon the base of an archway, allowing her a decent enough view of the soon-to-begin contest over the heads of the many students. It was a nice, out-of-the-way spot where she didn't have to concern herself with conversation.

Balen was the only one to find her there, her brother silently passing her a steaming cup of tea as he settled beside her.

She still wasn't the biggest fan of tea except when it got her time with a certain silver-haired princess, but she accepted her brother's offering nevertheless. It was warm in her hands if nothing else.

_**Are your students as excited as mine?**_

Blaise didn't immediately respond to Balen's question, opting to sip her tea as her eyes sought out her Black Eagles. They were all surrounding Dorothea. Laughing and bright-eyed… Alongside the overly cheerful Monica. The sight tugged at her chest.

_**Yes.**_

She didn't like that tug within her so forced a smile on her face as if it would diminish the feeling. She fell back on an old habit of teasing Balen.

_**They know Dorothea will win for them.**_

Balen paused at raising his cup to his lips, his eyes suddenly looking at her with a newfound intensity that made Blaise tilt her head and wonder what he was thinking. It took a moment but he eventually huffed a sound that may have been akin to a laugh before resuming his tea drinking.

Blaise felt a smile pull at her lips and shook her head, eyes flickering back to the students.

What little smile she had disappeared.

_**She will. Hilda wouldn't practice.**_

This time Blaise snorted. How odd that the Black Eagles had been all over the opportunity when Balen had such trouble with the Golden Deer. Maybe it was a formal noble thing.

She vaguely wondered who the Blue Lions representative was as the lights began to dim except on the makeshift dance floor, and the excited chatter fell away in anticipation. Blaise took another sip of her tea, grimacing more than a little at it's bitter flavor.

Was it bad she thought this ridiculous when it made everyone else so happy? Hell, even Bernadetta was present and not cowering under a table.

Dorothea looked utterly gorgeous in the burgundy dress she had chosen, light reflecting off of glitter with every movement and her hair curled and done up in an extravagant style. She paused in the middle of the lights, a bright smile on her face.

She looked like she belonged there.

Blaise took more of a gulp of her drink this time, lamenting for just a moment it wasn't something stronger.

The music began, a soft ballad that even Blaise could admit was a perfect choice for Dorothea's style of dancing. She had the judges enraptured immediately in the spins and sways. Manuela, of course, looked about to cry in adoration. Then again, Alois did too, but his was more likely to be because he was such a softy than any personal investment. Shamir was as composed as ever as she watched each step Dorothea made around the room.

Blaise was grateful Dorothea's dance was over quickly. She had no obligation to watch Annette or even Hilda's performance. She itched to leave, to pick up her sword and whack a training dummy until it fell apart.

She stayed until Dorothea was announced the winner and the student was swarmed by the Black Eagles. She stayed until Manuela cleared them out of the way to dote on Dorothea in a way that struck Blaise as very much like Chevalier. The way they gazed upon the other made her chest ache.

She had to remind herself not to squeeze the cup in her hand lest it shatter.

With a final swallow that drained the last of her cold and bitter tea, Blaise turned, carefully giving the now-empty cup to Balen as she slipped to the ground. Except for Balen, she did not think anyone noticed her leave on her own.

Blaise promised herself she would congratulate Dorothea later. Maybe after she massacred a training dummy or two. She needed to get the ache out before she shattered like a delicate tea cup under too much pressure.

~FE~

It was well into the night when she emerged out of the training grounds and began her silent stroll in the direction of her dormitory. Despite it all, she could still hear the sounds of celebration. She was too sore and tired though to contemplate the idea of joining.

Garreg Mach would wake the next morning to find several practice dummies obliterated into pieces or completely missing.

She didn't feel bad about it. If anything, she felt at least a little satisfied.

"Blaise."

She was just passing the first- floor dormitories of which were dead silent when the sound of her name made her pause. She looked around but didn't see anyone. There was no one on the path and all the doors to the dorms were closed.

...

Actually, one might be open. Just a sliver.

Blaise tilted her head, waiting to see if the mysterious voice called again.

Sure enough, that one door cracked open a little more and Blaise caught a glimpse of wild purple hair. "Blaise," Bernadetta called. Her hand left the safety of her room to wave Blaise over.

Her dormitory forgotten by her curiosity, Blaise shifted course and approached the door which shuddered further closed so only a slit was still open. She obediently stopped outside but did wonder whether Bernadetta thought this through. Blaise couldn't exactly speak through the door.

"I've, uh, got something for you. Wait there," Bernadetta's borderline panicked voice carried to her before the door shut completely with a reverberating thump.

Okay.

Blaise glanced around for anyone watching her stand outside a random dormitory doing, you know, nothing. Still empty so she remained there, tapping her foot while listening to the faint sounds of movement from the dormitory before her.

Several minutes passed before the door cracked open again and Bernadetta's hand slipped out, fingers clutched around an object.

Blaise reached out to take it, surprised to find it was soft and plushy. About the size of her palm, the little eagle doll was hand knit with fine thread and arguably overfilled with cotton. She liked it though, amused by how it squished if she poked it.

"I– I made it. Because, you know... Imissedyouandthoughtitmightmakeyoufeelbetter."

The door shut with a louder crack and Blaise was left attempting to decipher the last of what Bernadetta had said. She ran a hand through her hair, eyes flickering from the eaglet toy to the closed door.

She knocked.

There was a sound of a yelp on the other side of the door. "Ah! I'm sorry! I thought you would like it but you don't, do you? Of course you don't. Stupid Bernie! Useless, worthless, unmarriegable…"

Blaise knocked again, fighting the urge to do so a little harder in case it scared Bernadetta more.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you? I- I guess it is your right after what I've done."

This time Blaise did knock harder, mentally deciding to break the door down if Bernadetta didn't open it in fifteen seconds.

She was on ten when Bernadetta sighed, "Okay. I've made my peace."

The door cracked open and Blaise shoved her foot in the threshold in case Bernadetta tried to shut her out again. Otherwise, she remained behind the door as the shut-in girl would prefer, only twisting her hand around the door so her Sign would be legible.

Assuming, of course, Bernie had her eyes open.

_**I love it.**_

"...Wait. You what?"

Blaise frowned, unable to determine whether Bernadetta was surprised she loved the plush eaglet or whether she missed what she'd Signed.

The door was lacking in context.

She repeated the motion.

_**I love it.**_

"You love it?"

_**Yes.**_

"Really?" Her voice rose in pitch, making Blaise's lips twitch in a smile. "Are you sure?"

_**Yes. **_

Bernadetta let out a sigh of relief that was followed by another stretch of silence. Blaise's wrist was beginning to hurt from the awkward angle twisted around the edge of the door and so opted to try her luck.

_**Can I come out from behind the door?**_

"Oh, uh, S-sure!"

Slowly, Blaise peeked around the door, the rest of her body following when Bernadetta didn't immediately bolt. The young Black Eagle stood with her head slightly ducked, hands fidgeting in front of her. Blaise offered a smile and transferred her gaze to the toy.

_**Thank you. It's adorable.**_

Bernadetta turned red at the comment but her small smile betrayed her pleasure. Still, she fidgeted more. "I- hoping–ask something–maybe," she mumbled.

The mercenary tilted her head in a nod she hoped was encouraging.

"I know you have plans for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion and, um, I'll probably mess them up, but I'll mess them up anyways so I was wondering if maybe Icouldstaywithyou…" she trailed off with a shudder, her eyes squeezing shut as if expecting Blaise to smite her.

As it was, Blaise blinked, momentarily stunned by the question. And a little sad. She debated her best course of action before resting a gentle hand on Bernadetta's shoulder. It had the desired affect of coaxing her to open her eyes.

_**I'm going to intercept Balen, you know.**_

One of the more difficult jobs if she said so herself. She would think Bernadetta would be more comfortable among her classmates.

"I-I know," Bernadetta squeaked. "Maybe I could, um, help?"

Having an archer with her wasn't exactly a bad plan and she would think the other houses would be expecting her to use Petra and not Bernadetta. The shy girl could be the wild card advantage she needed.

If Bernadetta was sure she could handle it.

_**There might not be anyone else with us.**_

The purple-haired swallowed hard but actually stood a touch straighter. "I understand."

Huh.

Blaise had always questioned Bernadetta's presence at the academy. It was a shame such a soft soul had to be put through the kind of missions she had been on. Bandits, demonic beasts, assassination attempts...

But maybe something good managed to come out of it as well.

The Bernadetta at the beginning of the year wouldn't be volunteering for a difficult mission. The Bernadetta at the beginning of the year wouldn't have trusted her so thoroughly.

She clicked her tongue.

_**I have not finalized how I want to approach Balen, but I'll work you in and let you know.**_

It would change things up in a way Blaise hadn't expected, but then no one else would be expecting it either.

She dropped her gaze to the plush Eaglet as Bernadetta acknowledged her words and promptly slammed the door in her face. She huffed a silent laugh.

She certainly had much to think on.

~FE~

"Much to think on" may have been an understatement as the three Houses all buckled down their training for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Between Blaise's suggestions and Manuela's direction, the Black Eagles were truly improving. At the very least they had maintained their enthusiasm.

Ferdinand was pouring over strategy books and tactics in a way that even Hubert would have found impressive. Bernadetta was taking stealth lessons. Petra and Dorothea were taking turns leading the Eagles through drills. Blaise also insisted Petra focus on her marksmanship once Manuela mentioned there would be a ballista on the field.

She got some funny looks at that with Bernadetta being on their team, but no one asked. Blaise didn't offer any information on her Balen job either.

If she were being honest, she didn't have any.

"Dealing with Balen" was much easier said than done. She still didn't know how she was going to do it. She knew better than most, maybe even anyone, what it took to go up against him. As mercenaries, it had been a toss up which one of them would win as they had been more or less equals.

Now though...

Blaise was out of shape. The dancing had not gotten her even close to Balen's level and, with only a few weeks between the White Heron Cup and the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, the probability of her attaining the near perfection she needed slipped further from her grasp with every passing moment. Even if she did miraculously reach that level, she didn't have a weapon that could withstand the Sword of the Creator. She'd learned that lesson when they'd sparred.

So Blaise needed a plan to overcome her shortcomings.

But what kind of plan? Balen was no fool on the battlefield, after all, and he was bound to have his students around him while Blaise, at most, would have Bernadetta.

She supposed she could try an ambush as not-thrilled as she was about the idea. Or maybe challenge him to a one-on-one duel and hope his students were cocky enough in his abilities to not shoot her in the back. Bernadetta could remain hidden and either snipe Balen when Blaise had him distracted or pick off some Golden Deer students.

Blaise shook her head. It was riskier than she cared to go.

She wasn't opposed to sacrificing herself. In fact, she kind of expected to, but she had to be absolutely certain Balen would go down with her and Bernadetta could get away.

Pausing to tap her foot, Blaise pivoted in the other direction. Maybe she was getting too far ahead of herself. She would start with finding a weapon. The traveling merchants had to have something in their wares.

The marketplace was bustling when Blaise wandered into the area. The day was all sunshine, not a cloud in the sky, and unseasonably warm. It seemed everyone was taking advantage of the nice weather to shop. Maneuvering through the crowd was not that difficult though. No one paused to speak with her and she made it to the armory in short order.

And they had nothing.

Not literally, she supposed, since they had iron, steel, and silver. They had a few specialty weapons too that were beautiful and deadly in their own right but not against Balen. Not against the Sword of the Creator.

She huffed, suddenly feeling frustrated and maybe a little overwhelmed.

She needed to do this. It was the whole point.

Edelgard would be watching.

Scenarios ran through her head, each worse and more ridiculous than the next, but they had one theme in common. She failed, bested by Balen over and over again.

"Oh, Névé! You came to look at weapons too?"

Blaise winced, not even attempting to hide her grimace as Monica suddenly sidled up to her. Luckily no one seemed to have heard the other girl's slip of "Névé." All she needed was for a Knight to hear it and drag her to Rhea...

She made no effort to acknowledge Monica, the red in her periphery more than enough for her. Instead she stared at the weapons laid out before her.

Monica's arm shot in front of her, grasping a jagged blade by the hilt and swinging it haphazardly through the air between them.

Blaise felt the air rush by, felt the static from the magic imbued within the weapon frazzle the area around them. Monica wasn't very adept. Blaise knew if she held the weapon and waved it around like that, she'd, at the very least, have busted a window. Swords like this one were finicky and dependent on an individual's affinity. Some byproduct of someone trying to feel as if they resonate with a weapon when they didn't bear a Crest. A salty noble with some magic affinity trying to prove their status maybe?

She supposed she could relate on some level.

Monica's finger trailed the sharp edge of the blade with morbid fascination. Red eyes settled over the sword, peering at her, as a smirk crossed her features. "Wanna try it out with me?" she queried. The underlying threat was evident in her tone.

Not really.

Her neck seemed to tingle from the memory of Monica's dagger cutting her skin. Blaise sure didn't want to get stabbed by the jagged sword she now held. Magic affinity or not, that sword would leave a nasty wound not easily healed.

"Oh come on," Monica drawled in a dramatically high-pitched tone. "Don't you think I should get some practice in before the Battle of the Eagle and Lion too? You're working so hard with the others," she complained, having the audacity to sound left out.

The few muscles not already as tense as a bowstring tightened and, this time, she did force herself to tilt her head.

Monica had that feral grin and sharp gleam to her eyes. "You look surprised. I'm disappointed you haven't figured it out, Névé. Does Thales know how dense you are?"

Blaise's eyes narrowed. She wasn't so dense that she didn't know this Thales guy would be furious to know Monica was speaking so flippantly. She yanked her notebook from her cloak.

_You're not on the team._

Monica straightened and swept forward until she was deep in Blaise's personal space. Her breath tickled Blaise's ear. "Actually, I am. You see since Edel took dear Hubert with her that leaves two open positions. You and me."

Blaise grit her teeth, silently cursing herself for not addressing that detail. She pointed to her notebook again.

_You're not on the team. _

She scribbled more.

_I chose someone else already._

Of course she hadn't, but Monica didn't need to know that.

Blaise questioned the course of action she was choosing. Arguing with someone who already threatened to slit your throat was generally not a wise course of action. But Monica on the team... on her team. That was too much.

She straightened herself to her full height, her blood beginning to hum as her Crest branched out for whoever was nearest. It made her feel stronger.

Monica's grin had grown more bared and her words took on a growl. "That's funny since Manuela-"

_Go find a different team. You're not participating as a Black Eagle._

The silence between them was palpable as the redheaded Agarthan in disguise clenched her fingers on the hilt of the blade she still held. "Change your mind," she hissed.

Not this time.

Blaise didn't reach for her sword but drew whatever Crest she had found closer to her, allowing it to build and build and build... If Monica made a move, she would meet her.

"Ladies! You have a problem, take it outside!"

The blacksmith's voice snapped Blaise from her trance, the pressure the Crests had created dispersing back to a low hum. Monica appeared to consider stabbing the blade through the Blacksmith but, just as suddenly, the sword was out of her hand.

Blaise was slightly dumbfounded as Sylvain returned the sword to the blacksmith and then casually threw an arm around both her and Monica. "My apologies for my friends. Certifications coming up, you know. Tensions high. I'll see them out," Sylvain lied smoothly, complete with a wink before he forced the two of them along.

Or at least attempted to.

Monica spat like an angry cat, shoving Sylvain off of her and storming out of her own accord.

Sylvain, interestingly, chuckled at the display. "I knew you weren't fond of her but getting into a fight in the middle of a store, Blaise?"

Blaise wasn't as amused. She shrugged him off, stomping away herself.

And straight for the Black Eagles' classroom where she promptly threw the door open without any regard for the ongoing lesson.

"Blaise, what –"

_**Monica can't be on the team.**_

Manuela paused, mouth partially open from the interruption.

It occurred to Blaise she really should have put it all more delicately. It's not like anyone knew... anything. The thought stung more than it should.

Manuela, her lips pursed, carefully closed the book she had been lecturing from. She Signed.

An interesting choice for her.

_**We have an open spot and Monica is proficient on the battlefield.**_

Blaise fought not to snort.

Yeah and Monica was practically psychotic.

She should just explain. She knew that.

Monica wasn't who everyone thought she was. Monica was part of the group who had kidnapped and tortured her. Monica had hurt and further threatened her.

…

But who would believe that?

Blaise banked on something else instead regardless of how childish it would come across.

_**I'm not on the team if she is.**_

The classroom had been completely silent since she'd stormed in and Blaise didn't dare look at her students. Manuela's shock was bad enough. Shock and disappointment.

Blaise's heart pounded in her chest.

Eventually, Manuela broke the stare in favor of the Black Eagles. "Kids, why don't you go on to lunch," she dismissed.

Still Blaise didn't look as the students gathered whatever they needed and filed past her, but she felt every one of their gazes piercing into her.

Manuela let out a breath as the door shut with a quiet click. Her hand massaged her temple. "Okay, start from the beginning. What's the problem?" she asked.

She didn't know what Manuela expected her to say. There wasn't a "beginning" to start from. Blaise just repeated herself.

_**I'm not on the team if Monica is.**_

"You know I would rather you weren't in the battle," Manuela pointed out.

Oh, yeah.

Blaise felt her heart skip a beat. That wasn't the direction she'd wanted Manuela to go.

Crestfallen was a good word for her spiraling mood.

"Of course taking you out now would destroy the kids' morale and only someone blind wouldn't be able to see how seriously you're taking this…" Blaise felt a spark of hope at that. "... However, we're still down a participant and I'm not convinced taking Monica out is the best solution," Manuela admitted, the hint of a challenge in her tone.

_**I have someone else. I have a plan.**_

A lie.

Everything was a lie.

"Care to explain your plan? You know that's how a team works, Blaise."

Irritation replaced her hurt.

After all, where was the team when she sat alone in a dark cell? Where were they when the Crest beast ripped her apart and she was bound to a steel table and there were knives and rats and the walls closed in? Where were they when a shackle was clamped around Chevalier's wrist and when the Death Knight shattered her own in her own dormitory.

Of course she knew she wasn't being quite fair but... none of it was fair.

Not the attack, not the imprisonment, not the Flame Emperor's abandonment.

And certainly not Monica creeping her way in.

"Blaise," Manuela called through the fog of her mind. "Breathe."

Blaise did, letting out air she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Manuela's expression had softened from a disgruntled teacher into a concerned physician as she leaned down to be more at Blaise's level.

"I'm not meaning to upset you, Blaise, but these kids trust you to help them win the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Are you sure about Monica?" Manuela gently prodded.

She nodded. More of a slight tilt of her head than anything.

The thought of Monica around her Eagles was worse than the thought of losing. Was worse than the thought of her failure.

What did her failure matter to anyone else anyways? Her Eagles would move on from a loss. Blaise just might not be wanted to move along with them.

And, honestly, what else was new there?

Just… keep Monica away from her. And them.

"Okay. We'll do this your way." Manuela squeezed Blaise's shoulder. "Let me know what I can help you do once you have it figured out," she offered. "And don't worry about explaining to the kids. I'll handle it."

Blaise was grateful. She needed to get away.

Luckily, it had only been eight minutes or so and no student was going to return from a voluntarily given early lunch any earlier than required so Blaise didn't have to worry about crossing paths with her Black Eagles.

She couldn't say the same for Sylvain who must have followed her from the marketplace.

"You're doing it again. The lonely wandering," he stated the moment the door shut behind her.

She stepped around him but couldn't say she was surprised when he fell in step with her.

"You really should relax more, enjoy the scenery, savor dinner. It doesn't last forever," Sylvain pointed out.

How dramatic.

Blaise dug out her notebook and flipped it, preparing to tell him off, when she paused.

It was his Crest she'd drawn to her in the marketplace, she realized. Was that why he was here? Had he felt it and come looking?

She tilted her head to consider him.

And her mind suddenly swam with possibilities. Crazy possibilities.

She couldn't, could she?

_Do you want to be a Black Eagle?_

There, she'd done it anyway.

His smile faded into confusion. Then he laughed. Hard. "What are you on about?" he asked once he had some semblance of control.

Blaise didn't laugh. She wasn't joking.

Sylvain got along well enough with the Black Eagles. He was a good fighter. He sure as hell was better to have than Monica.

He also had a hero's relic.

That she might could borrow to hold off the Sword of the Creator...

The pieces of her poorly-thought-out-and–practically-nonexistent plan began clicking in place.

Sylvain's amusement disappeared as it occurred to him she wasn't laughing with him. "Seriously, what are you on about?"

Blaise grinned.

_Sylvain, do you want to be a Black Eagle?_

He stared at the paper in front of him with an amused smile, but Blaise could see the wheels turning in his mind.

He was interested.

Sylvain crossed his arms. "What's the catch?" he inquired.

Blaise held up two fingers before scribbling on a fresh sheet of paper.

_One, your involvement with the Black Eagles is a secret._

"A secret?" Sylvain laughed. "What's the point? Everyone will know when we start battle preparations. It's not going to throw off Dimitri or Claude."

Blaise shook her head.

_Not before. During._

Sylvain said nothing so Blaise elaborated.

_You start the battle as a Blue Lion and switch to the Black Eagles during._

"Turn coat, huh? Ingrid'll have my head," he chuckled. "Is that even allowed?" Sylvain wondered.

Blaise shrugged. It might be unorthodox but what wouldn't be allowed about it? The Black Eagles would go in down one and they come out with the correct number of participants. No extra people so at that point it's just strategy and using your resources.

That's what one did in battle.

_I wasn't going to ask._

Sylvain smiled faintly. "I'm intrigued, Eisner. What's the second catch?"

…

_I need to borrow the Lance of Ruin._

That drew a frown but she was confident he could care less about the lance itself and he knew she could handle it relatively safely.

"No crest beasts, I hope."

_Nope._

She had him.

Blaise offered her hand.

Sylvain glanced at it, seemingly considering the offer. "Well, that's certainly interesting to say the least… and you did allow me to tag along against Miklan. Eh, what the hell. The thought of Felix's face will be worth it," he agreed.

He clasped her hand and, just like that, Blaise felt a spark of hope. Maybe she and the Eagles could all get what they wanted yet.

There was only one important piece missing and she arrived just past noon on the twenty fourth of the Ethereal Moon.

Blaise knew she was coming long before her company arrived. She knew when they were on the path through the forest, Blaise shoving her half-eaten lunch to Raphael before bolting out of the Dining Hall with Balen calling after her. She was climbing up the wall surrounding Garreg Mach as they crossed the field.

The Empire soldiers were at the gate when Blaise leaned over the edge of the wall. Polished black armor emblazoned with a crimson double-headed eagle shone in the sunlight.

But Blaise had no eyes for the soldiers.

Only the silver-haired princess situated on a white mare at the helm of the battalion.

Blaise, despite all of her worries and all of her irritations and the general problems she had going on between herself and the Flame Emperor, could not stop from pulling slightly on Edelgard's Crests.

As if she had called her name aloud, Edelgard von Hresvelg turned in her saddle, lavender eyes meeting blue for the first time in months.

The resulting smile may have been small but it was soft and, well, radiant if Blaise said so herself.

It took her breath away.

She didn't think she minded finding herself breathless. Not this time.

_ A/N:_

_Personal belief- All Byleths deserve to be able to dance._

_Thank you, everyone! I appreciate all of you._


End file.
